The Air We Breathe
by orangetails
Summary: My first FanFic… A routine op ends up having serious consequences. Whole team, but mainly Callen and Sam H/C and friendship. (Set fairly randomly anywhere in the first 7/8 seasons - though in my head probably somewhere around season 6-7, and before Michelle dies...)
1. Prologue

_This is my first FanFic, and my first attempt at creative writing since school..! so go easy on me. I had an idea, and it's not quite come together in the way I thought - I totally get what seasoned writers mean about the 'plot bunnies' taking over now lol. It started in my head as just a short H/C... then I decided it needed a 'plot' to sit in, and I'm not sure how well that's gone... The first few chapters are moreorless done so I will try to get them posted fairly quickly, but the rest is still a work in progress. Rest assured I will finish it if it kills me though!_

 _Thanks also to Mulderette for helping me on the technicalities of getting the first chapter uploaded...!_

* * *

 **PROLOGUE**

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Callen couldn't understand why the irritating beep wouldn't stop. It was still dark. Not time to get up. Was it?

Beep.

Was it an alarm going off? Did he set an alarm? He never usually had problems waking up. Staying asleep, now that was the problem.

Beep.

His phone maybe? The beeping seemed louder now, more insistent. Getting faster. What kind of crazy alarm was this? He tried to raise a hand to shut the damn thing off, but it didn't seem like his hand was connected to him. What the hell? He closed his eyes (had they even been open?) and a flash, a bang and then darkness exploded across his brain, and he felt his body crash to the floor.

BEEP BEEP BEEP!


	2. Chapter 1

_Thank you for the positive response to the start of this story. The chapters are generally longer, although this is another fairly short one.  
Still trying to wrestle the second half of the story into submission! But the next few chapters will get published fairly quickly now I know how to get them up here!_

 _Update - it's been pointed out the flashbacks might work better in italics, so apologies for re-trying like that (and I've just realised it would have been possible to update without deleting and re-posting...! sorry! I'm learning...!)_

 _I'm never sure if large blocks of italics actually end up harder to read... but it might help the movement of the story to make more sense over this and coming chapters._

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE**

Sam stood anxiously over the high bed in the middle of the room. Nothing seemed to have changed, but he felt an increase in worry all the same. He intently scanned all the monitors and machines, scanned his partner, troubled brown eyes searching for the reason that had caused him to rise from the chair he had been sitting in for hours and cross to the bed. Dammit, he thought rhetorically, why wasn't it him lying there. Him, unable to breathe. Not Callen, not again. His own breath hitched just thinking about it, replaying the last scenes of his partner awake, still trying to make sense of what had happened, but he was dragged back to the grim present by a sudden increase in the speed of the beeping that spoke aloud every beat Callen's heart was artificially making.

Before Sam could react, the door to the room opened, and a nurse and a doctor rushed in.

"He's waking up!" the doctor said. "Agent Callen? Agent Callen, can you hear me?"

His words had no effect. Sam felt helpless as he watched his partner twitching, ever ready to fight, starting to gag on the ventilator that breathed for him.

"Talk to him!" the doctor urged, and turning quietly to the nurse asked her to prepare a sedative just in case. Callen was coming to several hours earlier than they had predicted.

Sam choked, but put his hand on Callen's forearm, and with a slight break in his voice said "G? It's Sam. Time to wake up now, buddy. Time to…." He broke off as Callen's eyes opened, bleary, unfocussed, but flared with panic all the same. "There you are. I'm here, G," Sam said, moving his hand on Callen's arm and leaning in slightly, smiling reassuringly. "I'm right here, you're fine." Something in Callen relaxed as he made eye contact with his partner, but it was short-lived when he tried to nod and swallow, and found he couldn't. Many would have missed it, but Sam was instantly aware of the slight increase in tension, the bunching of the muscles, the primal survival instincts in full swing. "G," he said again, his tone soothing and calm, which belied the tension he actually felt. "Don't fight it. Your lungs, that warehouse…. There was something in the crates that exploded. Do you remember..?" he drifted off.

* * *

 _It seemed like any ordinary case, any ordinary day. Callen sat lazily next to him as he drove, fairly leisurely, through the LA streets. Nell was still guiding them in, using Henderson's cell phone as a fix on his location. It looked like he was travelling on foot, on the outskirts of the city, towards the more industrial areas. No sign of trouble. Just a simple apprehension of a suspect for questioning. They'd done it a thousand times._

 _Getting nearer, it was clear they weren't going to be able to continue to follow closely in the car. Henderson was the other side of a tall mesh fence, within an industrial site, aggressive wire gates off the exit from the road securely padlocked. "How did he get in here," Sam muttered, not seeing any obvious point of entry._

 _"Split up?" Callen suggested. "He's not far ahead of us. Carry on round and cut him off."_

 _Sam nodded, and lingered briefly watching while Callen got out of the car and made easy work of climbing over the metal fence in pursuit of their quarry. He put the car back into drive, and followed the perimeter fencing around, finding after a mile or so that the fencing opened up towards a more public area, which seemed to make a mockery of the earlier security. It was drifting towards lunchtime, and a few people were walking down the road, heading presumably towards the more built up area he could see not too far in the distance. A row of shops, food vendors, and beyond that the beginnings of suburbia, one of the rougher parts of the city. According to Nell in his ear, Henderson, and Callen getting ever closer behind him, were headed that way, at the moment still the other side of the fence that ran parallel between them, and out of sight behind various industrial buildings. Sam drove round to where the fence petered into nothing, getting out and coming to flank Henderson from the other side, trusting Nell to guide him as accurately as possible through the maze of buildings._

 _He saw Henderson first, running now. Callen's comm didn't seem to be working, he hadn't heard any noise from his partner to explain the change in pace. "Callen?" he shouted, with a little urgency, and then when there was no response, "Nell?"_

 _"Callen is fifty yards behind the suspect," Nell said calmly in his ear. "Running. Eric's got him on CCTV, but I think his comm is down? We didn't see what caused Henderson to spook."_

 _"I'll head him off," Sam said, starting to sprint towards their suspect. Henderson caught sight of him, and whirled towards the steady stream of pedestrians out on the road. Sam altered course, losing sight of Henderson between smaller buildings. "Nell?" he demanded into his comm. "Lost him!"_

 _"There are no cameras where he is at the moment, but the movement of his cell shows he's travelling back towards Callen. He's moving pretty quick now Sam. Turn left after the next low building and he and Callen should both be in your line of sight."_

 _Sam kept up his pace, closing the gap, with Henderson in between them both, closer to Callen than to him. Catching sight of Henderson first as he rounded the low building between them, Sam looked puzzled, then concerned, and increased his speed even more._

* * *

Callen relaxed as his partner spoke, and the doctor took the opportunity to communicate with his patient again.

"Agent Callen? I need to leave the vent for now…. Until I can run some tests to ensure your lungs are functioning properly. They were badly compromised by some toxic fumes…. Do you understand me? Blink once for yes, okay?"

Callen blinked once, though not before shooting a gaze to his partner, still stood with his hand on Callen's arm. Sam imperceptibly nodded, solid and reassuring as ever.

The doctor raised the head of Callen's bed, so that he was closer to sitting. Callen closed his eyes, and Sam could see that the movement hurt him. The doctor noticed too. "Are you in any pain, Agent Callen?" he asked gently. "Blink once for yes, twice for no."

Callen took a moment to register the question being aimed at him, a long moment which did nothing to ease Sam's anxiety, but eventually they were rewarded by two slow blinks. The doctor nodded, and placed the call button under Callen's fingertips.

"Press that if it changes, and we can give you something for the pain. In the meantime, rest, and I will run some tests to check your lung function and oxygen levels in a few hours." Callen blinked once, looking again for Sam, not, Sam thought, for verification this time, but to check that when the doctor and nurse left the room, Sam would stay. He needn't have worried. Sam hadn't left the room for almost two days, he wasn't going anywhere now.

"Rest," Sam said. "I'll be right here."


	3. Chapter 2

_Sorry for the delay in getting the next chapter uploaded! I've struggled with this and the next chapter, and I'm still not sure I'm entirely happy - but maybe I'll never be, and the story had to get moving somehow!_

 _The good news is I have pretty much finished the whole thing, so I'l get each chapter uploaded much quicker now._

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWO**

 _*TWO DAYS EARLIER*_

"You sleep here again or something?" Sam teased his partner, who was already sitting at his desk, laptop open and a mug of tea in progress. "I thought I was early today."

"I had a couple of things to finish off," Callen replied, gesturing to his laptop. "Some of us have more paperwork to deal with than others."

"Some of us leave it to the last minute, more like," Sam shot back.

"I can only work on what's passed up to me," Callen grumbled, looking pointedly at the pile on Deeks' desk. "I bet half of what I need is buried in that pile our charming liaison calls a filing system!"

"Speak of the devil," Sam muttered mischievously under his breath to Callen, seeing Deeks arrive. Callen smirked, leaning back in his chair as he so often did, watching the others interact.

"Our charming who what now?" Deeks enquired, the usual gaiety in his manner, setting his bag down carefully on his desk to avoid toppling over the piles of paper lining the edge.

"Who's charming?" Kensi said, a step behind, takeaway coffee in hand. "Wait, Deeks isn't flirting again is he?"

"You know, talking of charming…." Deeks began, and the other three groaned in unison.

They were interrupted by a whistle from Eric. "Got a case, guys," he called, disappearing back into his eyrie.

"I guess now you'll never know," Deeks joked.

"Who says we want to?" Kensi teased playfully as the team obediently trooped up the stairs and through the big doors into Ops.

"What have we got, Eric?" asked Sam, leaning against the central table, flanked by Callen on one side, and Kensi and Deeks on the other.

"Lieutenant Colonel James Briggs was badly injured earlier this morning, opening a parcel in his own home." Eric said, flashing crime scene photos up onto the big screen. "These are from Forensics and LAPD, who have secured the scene, but because of Briggs' military rank, and the contents of the parcel, it's been handed straight up to us."

"What was in the parcel?" Kensi asked incredulously.

"Some sort of weapons grade powder, by the looks of things," Eric replied. "When Briggs opened the package, it poofed up into his face! He's got bad chemical burns and there's a good chance he'll be permanently blind." The four agents looked at each other, serious expressions as they began to process the possible scenarios and implications.

"Charrrrming," Deeks drawled, with a sideways look at Callen and Sam which earned him a nudge from Kensi. "Where the hell was the parcel from?"

"That's the worrying thing," Nell piped up. "The outer packaging of the parcel indicated it was from a major online retailer, Xingu, who ship direct from various automated warehouses on a daily basis. Our initial look into his bank account shows that he was a regular customer with the company, but his expected recent order was for a computer game. And there's nothing to suggest Lt Col Briggs was a specific target, he has an impeccable service history to date, with no controversial missions on his file."

"A computer game?" Sam echoed, eyebrows raised.

"Yes. He has a 12 year old son. Most of what he buys appears to be computer games and related tech."

"So, how did a genuine internet order for a computer game end up being delivered as a chemical weapon?" Callen mused rhetorically.

"That is indeed the question, Mr Callen," said Hetty, entering Ops in her usual stealth-like manner. "One I hope you will soon be able to answer. The MD of Xingu, a Mrs Jorgensen, is waiting for you at the boat shed. Take Ms Jones. Mrs Jorgensen will explain how their system works, and answer any questions you have. As soon as HazMat have any further details on the powder, it will be forwarded on to you all." Callen nodded, and turned to Kensi.

"Okay. Kens, why don't you and Prince Charming here go and visit Mrs Briggs and her son at the marine hospital."

* * *

"Well that wasn't exactly helpful," Callen sighed as they all got back into the Challenger. "What do you think Nell?"

"I would certainly agree that their system has been hacked," Nell responded confidently. "Eric and I will start looking into it. But why? What's the point? We've already established LtCol Briggs is unlikely to be the victim of a targeted attack. Why would anyone go to all the trouble to hack into a massive corporation like that, just to send him some weaponised powder?"

"Unless…." Callen considered slowly.

"Unless what, G?" Sam prodded.

"What if this genuinely was an unfortunate accident as far as Briggs was concerned?" Callen continued. "Has anyone with a similar address ordered through the Xingu website recently? It could simply be that the package was delivered to the wrong address."

"That still doesn't explain why military grade weaponised powder is being sent via courier from an online retail company," Sam muttered. "Or where the powder came from. Eric hasn't found any reports of any missing or stolen."

"No," Callen agreed. "That's a problem, agreed. But if we can find out who the package was intended for, we might get closer to working out who sent it, and where it came from."

"If it is military, then someone is on the bad guys' payroll," Sam said. "That stuff isn't exactly easy to steal, and it should all be accounted for."

"Let's see what Nell and Eric can dig up regarding any other customers, and start from there," Callen said as they pulled up outside the Mission and entered the secret old building, separating off to their respective domains to follow the leads they had so far. Callen crossed the hall to update Hetty, not that they had much to brief her with currently, and she quickly dismissed him back to his work.

Before long, the silence was broken as Eric clattered down the stairs and into the bullpen, closely followed by Nell. "We've got something!"

"A Mr John Bates was on the delivery list for the same courier, also an order from Xingu, and his address is only two digits different from LtCol Briggs – 3103 Lakeside, and 3130 Lakeside, look." Nell said, flashing two order confirmations side by side on the screen for Callen and Sam to see.

"But get this," Eric leapt in. "Mr Bates was NOT the one who placed the order. It was placed from a different IP address, who we've traced back to a Mr Peter Henderson."

"We can't find a link between the two men yet," Nell pre-empted Callen's next question. "There doesn't appear to be any family relationship or connection, no birthday or anniversary, nothing to explain why Henderson would buy something but have it shipped to Bates. However, Mr Henderson is certainly interesting."

"Interesting how?" Callen asked.

"He is a former marine," Eric said triumphantly. "AND he has a dishonourable discharge. From what we can see, he used to work in a stock control capacity within the weapons store at Camp Pendleton, and, well, let's just say that quantities of weapons and ammo in the store weren't as expected after he was discharged."

"You think he could have stolen the powder?" Sam asked. "And stored it, for how long? Why? What for?"

"We can't answer the why," Nell said, "but certainly, he had the opportunity to steal the powder, and ammunition too. He was discharged nine months ago. The powder would store perfectly safely in certain conditions. Perhaps he was planning to sell it?"

"You'd make a hell of a bomb with that powder," Callen said thoughtfully.

"Absolutely," Nell agreed. "An explosion of the powder itself would do minimal damage, but the lingering effects of the powder in the air would be colossal in a populated area. Direct contact with skin or eyes would burn, and depending on the detonator used, if it ignites from the explosion the fumes are highly toxic." She paused. "It's also interesting how the order for Bates was processed. Someone – Henderson? – definitely hacked into Xingu's retail system. The system and warehouse are semi-automated, using individual product order codes to pick the items and send them out to the couriers. Bates' order has a code, but no product description, and the code does not match any of the product codes in the list supplied to us by Mrs Jorgensen. So we don't actually know what Bates' order was supposed to be, only that it turned up as the powder, somehow."

"Okay," Callen said. "So we have a dirty ex-marine, who has managed to steal some weaponised powder, and we're assuming some ammunition as well? What about explosives?" Nell shook her head negatively.

"Unconfirmed," she said. "But doubtful. Explosives and detonators would have been much harder to steal, they're very stringently accounted for."

"So should the powder and ammo be," Sam said stonily, disliking the possibility of a traitorous marine.

"Henderson steals the powder and ammo," Callen continued. "To what end, we're not exactly sure. Not to build a bomb himself, if he hasn't got detonators and explosives, so maybe as a middle man to sell on the black market. Find out if he has any connections to known terrorist groups…" he turned to Nell and she nodded. "He somehow arranges for a parcel containing the powder to be delivered via Xingu's courier to Bates, but the courier makes a mistake and it is delivered to Briggs instead – who opens the package because he is legitimately expecting a parcel from Xingu. What caused it to 'poof', as Eric so 'charmingly' put it?" Callen winked at Sam who rolled his eyes.

Eric looked embarrassed, but answered, "It would appear the powder was highly condensed and very tightly packed. It would be wrong to say it 'exploded', but when LtCol Briggs opened the package, which, by the way, was shaped and sized as a computer game case, it blew out into his face."

"Nasty," Callen commented.

"Very nasty," echoed Sam.

"Fill in Kensi and Deeks, Eric. Can we locate Henderson, Nell?" Callen asked. "I think Sam and I need to bring him in for a little chat."


	4. Chapter 3

_Cringe... another dialogue-heavy chapter. (And just for the avoidance of any doubt, this follows on from the previous chapter so still 'Two Days Earlier'...)_

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE**

"Poor family," Kensi spoke quietly to Deeks as they left the marine base after meeting with Mrs Briggs and her son.

"Yeah," Deeks agreed, serious for once. "And if the Wonder Twins are right, the package wasn't even meant for him. That really sucks!"

"Permanently blind…. That sucks for anyone, intended or not," Kensi said. They walked soberly back towards the car. They were just getting in when Kensi's phone rang, and seeing it was Eric again, she answered it on the first ring. "Hang on, slow down Eric! Let me put you on speaker so Deeks can hear too," she said, placing the phone on the dash so she could do her seatbelt and start manoeuvring the car out of the car park as she spoke.

"Callen and Sam need back up," Eric explained, some urgency in his tone.

"Back up?" Deeks queried. "Where, what's going on?"

"North of the city, the warehouse district," Eric informed them, starting to prattle as he always did when worried. "They were supposed to be picking up Henderson for questioning, but Callen's comm doesn't seem to be working properly, and Sam says it looks like Henderson has got himself a hostage, and now there's a second shooter too. Callen's trying to rescue the hostage and apprehend Henderson, but Sam is split between backing him up, and keeping back a bunch of civilians who seem hell bent on a suicide mission. Sam says they're totally disregarding that shots have been fired, and are trying to help him rescue the hostage, but honestly they're more hindrance than help..."

"Shots fired?" Kensi echoed, concerned. "Are Callen and Sam okay?"

"Sam thinks Callen took a hit, but he lost sight of him shortly after."

"Lost sight of him… What do you mean, lost sight of him?" Deeks demanded. "Why is Callen going after Henderson alone? Why not wait for back up? And what the hell are the civilians playing at?"

"Well everyone is all riled up," Eric said, delivering the blow. "The hostage Henderson has is a young boy."

* * *

"Son of a… What the hell happened here?" Deeks exclaimed as they pulled up outside the warehouse almost half an hour later. They had been on their way when Eric had updated them that Callen and Sam had already been taken away by ambulance, and told them Hetty wanted them to take a first look at the scene. LAPD had secured the perimeter, and they flashed their badges as they ducked under the tape.

"It was lucky Sam managed to keep all the civilians back," Kensi agreed, looking at the fallout from the explosion. The building structures themselves were unharmed, but a lot of debris and rubble from roofing tiles had been pushed in the direction of the more populated area.

"Except for Callen and the boy…" Deeks agreed. "No casualties. Very lucky."

"Let's see if we can find any sign of Henderson," Kensi said, picking her way forward over the rubble towards the warehouse. They hadn't gone more than a few yards before they were prevented from continuing by a HazMat official, suited and masked, who started to talk animatedly with Deeks, while Kensi walked a wider arc, looking at the building from a different angle. Eventually Deeks joined her.

"We can't do anything else here right now," he said disgustedly. "The whole building has been sealed, and HazMat are clearing the air inside it. Apparently whatever exploded released a load of toxic fumes!" Kensi paled.

"Let's ring Ops, and see if there's any word on Callen and Sam," she said quietly, and Deeks gently touched her shoulder whilst getting his phone out of a back pocket.

"Eric? Any news?" he said, when Eric picked up at the first ring. "What's going on?"

"Well, Sam's been given the all clear. Hetty arrived at the hospital even before they did, so they're both waiting there…. Callen is in surgery."

"Surgery?" Kensi asked with concern.

"To remove the bullet. He was shot. It went into his ribs. I don't think it's anything major. I mean, it is major, because he's in surgery, but it's not like last time…." Eric drifted off.

"What about the fumes?" Kensi said.

"I don't know yet!" Eric said with frustration. "Sam and Hetty aren't answering their phones, Nell is still trying both of them – I guess we'll know more when they do?" he finished a little lamely.

"Thanks Eric," said Deeks, ending the call. Kensi was quiet, and Deeks touched his hand to her shoulder again. "He'll be okay," he said quietly. "I mean, it's Callen, isn't it. He's like the original superhero. Superman, Spiderman, no, wait, Batman. Maybe all of them rolled into one."

"Oh yeah," said Kensi, grateful for her partner's joking to alleviate the tension she felt inside. "And what does that make Sam?"

"Good point," mused Deeks. "He's got the Challenger. That must make him Batman, y'know, with the Bat-Mobile?"

"I'm sure Callen will be thrilled that you've demoted him to Robin," Kensi chuckled, getting into the car.

"Wait! No, that's not what I meant. Kensallina? Let's not tell Sam and Callen about this conversation, okay?" Deeks back-pedalled rapidly, climbing in beside his partner. "Ops, or hospital?"

"Let's swing by the hospital to check in with Sam and Hetty, and we can decide what to do from there," Kensi decided, swinging out onto the road.

* * *

"Sam!" Kensi cried out, running towards him. She stopped a pace away, taking in the dust on his clothes and his overall weariness, reaching out to embrace him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he replied shortly, and then, hugging her back, softening it, "Sorry, Kens. I'm fine. I'm just worried about G."

"How is he?" Kensi asked, almost at the same time as Deeks, joining them, demanded, "What the hell happened?"

"God knows," Sam sighed, still reeling from the earlier events which had all happened so quickly. He wasn't sure he had really processed it all yet. "Callen's in surgery, but he shouldn't be too much longer. Hetty's waiting down there, I came up to get her a cup of tea. She's pretty shaken, not that she'd admit it."

"We all are," Kensi sympathised. "I'm just glad you're okay. And Callen will be too, right?"

"I hope so," Sam said blackly, and Kensi looked worried at the heaviness in his tone. "He didn't look good."

"Let's go and find Hetty," Deeks suggested, striving for lightness. "There's no point assuming the worst up here." Sam and Kensi nodded, and they all quietly returned to the theatre floor. Double doors at the far end of the corridor were opened as they arrived, and Sam could see Callen being pushed on a gurney by three medical personnel, a myriad of pipes and tubes surrounding him. Hetty appeared at their sides, and they all watched in silence as Callen was wheeled past them. He was pale, and a small cut on his forehead had been stuck over with butterfly strips. There were bandages on both arms, and an IV tube going into his right hand. A clip on his finger and pads stuck to his chest connected to monitors displaying pulsating green lines and sounding an echoing beep that rung in their ears long after he was gone and the corridor was empty. Far more troubling was the ventilator still breathing for him. Hetty took in a sharp gasp, almost imperceptible, her poise quickly recovered as she turned towards the surgeon following Callen.

"Are you here for Agent Callen?" the surgeon asked, and they all nodded, still shocked to silence by what they had seen. "Come this way," the man said gently, and his tone did nothing to make any of them feel more at ease. They all settled into a small family room, with comfortable chairs. A room where many people had spent many hours waiting for news, good or bad.

"The good news," the surgeon began, "is that the bullet to his arm did very little damage. I see he's no stranger to being shot…" Sam almost smirked. "He'll need to rest the arm to allow the muscle to heal, but I'm confident there'll be no long term effects. He'll be sore from where the bullet lodged in a rib and cracked it, but again we've repaired the damage, and bar a small risk of infection in the bone, which we're treating with strong antibiotics, there is little to be concerned about long term."

"I sense some bad news," Hetty sat up straight, unemotional, a pillar of composure and strength in front of her team.

"Certainly some 'less than good news'," the surgeon agreed. "I understand you don't know the exact nature of the fumes he was exposed to as yet?" Hetty shook her head as the surgeon continued. "It is the bigger concern. It appears to have had a paralysing effect on his lungs. Now I must stress," he looked around at the four worried faces fixed on him, "we believe this to be temporary, but in order to give his lungs a chance, we will be keeping him sedated and on a ventilator. We'll continue to monitor closely, and that along with how he is when he wakes up will give us a better idea of what to expect going forward. It's possible he may have some permanent lung damage, but it's far too early to be looking at worst case scenarios yet. I'm afraid it'll be a bit of a waiting game over the next few days."

"Can we see him?" Sam asked hoarsely.

"Of course," the surgeon replied. "Give them a few more minutes to settle him up in the ICU, and then you can sit with him as much as you like, though I must request only two people in his room at a time whilst he is still sedated." They all nodded their thanks as the surgeon held the door for them and they trooped out, none of them wanting to make eye contact with each other. Kensi slipped her hand in Deeks' and he squeezed it reassuringly. They made their way up to Callen's room, and found him alone. They all hovered in the doorway, still trying to reconcile with the sight of their fallen team leader and friend in front of them.

"We'll just go in and quickly say hi," Kensi said quietly. "And then we'll leave you two with him. Okay?"

"Thank you, Ms Blye," Hetty acknowledged, and Sam nodded.

"How did this happen, Hetty," he said, rhetorically, the two of them sinking wearily down into chairs that lined the corridor outside Callen's door.

"I don't know, Mr Hanna," she replied. "But for now, it is not important. For now, we wait, and pray for Mr Callen."


	5. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

 _*PRESENT DAY*_

Callen slept fitfully. Lulled on the one hand by the rhythmic whoosh of the ventilator, but irritated on the other by the incessant beeping, and the hourly checks from the nurse, he felt restless and disorientated. Flashing images played through his mind, but, still groggy from the sedation, he couldn't sort out what was real.

He remembered yelling to Sam, remembered flashes of gunshots. Remembered flinging himself disregarding all sense towards his partner, using his arm to push Sam out of the way. Remembered falling to the floor and blackness...

A sudden bolt of pain ran through his arm, and his whole body winced and jerked as he came up again against the ventilator and the tube in his throat. Almost in a daze, he felt Sam's hand on his arm, connecting him back to reality. He dragged his eyes open to see Sam's concerned face peering down at him.

"You good?"

He nodded, at least, his intention was a nod. His whole body felt like lead. Sam didn't look convinced. His worried eyes looked deep, expressionless, almost boring through Callen to the bed. Callen hitched a sigh, starting to choke on the ventilator as Sam moved his hand to his shoulder, gently pinning him back against the pillows, seeing the glassy panic in his eyes.

"Relax," Sam said. "Let that thing breathe for you. Shouldn't be for long. You took in a couple of lungfuls of some noxious fumes. It paralysed your breathing…. But don't worry," Sam quickly ran on as he felt Callen's panic increase again. "Eric had the ambulance on its way the second you were shot."

Callen stared wildly at Sam. Even though he couldn't talk, his question was clear.

"Your arm," Sam said. "You stuck your damn fool arm in the way of a bullet that was aimed at me. Don't you remember?" Callen still stared. Sam couldn't help feeling unnerved. He wasn't used to silence from his partner – no witty comebacks, no smug smirk as he tied Sam's tongue in knots with just a few simple words. The steady whoosh of the ventilator was the only punctuation in the quiet room. Sam sighed, and Callen felt frustration build within him, hating the hospital, hating being the centre of attention, even if it was only Sam in the room… He cursed the insistent beeps starting to rise again, betraying his attempts to appear cool and in control. He started to move his arm, to pull at the various tubes, to get the hell out of there. Immediately though, a rush of pain overwhelmed him and he winced, closing his eyes against it and trying to concentrate on the insistent rhythm of the ventilator controlling his breathing. He felt Sam's hand again on his right arm, the one he hadn't tried to move. His left arm burned, every nerve ending on fire.

"Let me get the nurse," Sam said. Callen opened his eyes and very quickly gave Sam two pleading blinks. "Come on man, you're in pain. They can give you something for it." Callen blinked twice again, and did his best, in the circumstances, to assemble a few more wits, to appear dignified and composed, to show his game face to the world. Sam didn't see through it for a second, but welcomed nonetheless the return of the stubborn Callen he knew.

Into the quiet walked Hetty, along with Callen's doctor. Callen shut his eyes, embarrassed, and fearing what Hetty would read there. But the doctor's words cheered him.

"Agent Callen, I think you'd be more comfortable without the vent now, don't you agree?" Callen opened his eyes and very clearly blinked. "Okay," the doctor said calmly. "If you two would like to wait outside..?" Hetty took a long look at her agent, never liking the idea of any of them, but especially Callen, coming back harmed. He stared back, bright blue eyes misted over with pain. Sam made to leave with Hetty, but Callen raised his right hand, a hand which still felt like lead, to stop him.

"Shall I stay?" Sam said quietly to the doctor, and the doctor, seeing it was clearly his patient's wish also, nodded his agreement.

Hetty stepped quietly outside, lowering herself into one of the plastic seats in the hall. Bugger, it never got any easier. Her eyes welled up, and she swallowed, locking the emotion behind thick rimmed glasses as she looked up to see Kensi and Deeks exiting the lifts.

"How is he?" Kensi asked quietly, sitting down next to Hetty.

"Yeah, Sam said he woke up a few hours ago?" Deeks hovered, part statement, part question, not fully understanding why if Callen was awake, Hetty was outside the room. "He is okay, right?"

"He is, Mr Deeks. The doctor is happy that he is able to start breathing by himself, and is removing the ventilator as we speak."

"Oh Hetty, that's great news," Kensi said with relief.

"That it is, Ms Blye," Hetty said, positively, hiding her inner concerns. This was indeed good news, but she was under no illusions that things would be straightforward from now on. Callen was not renowned for being the easiest patient. Still, he was alive, and awake, and physically she knew he would heal, as he always did. Emotionally, well that depended very much on the boy in the room down the hall.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Sam stood at Callen's bedside, a hand still protectively on his partner's arm. "How are you doing?" he asked his partner, years of practice hiding the concern in his voice if not in his eyes.

Callen cleared his throat, wincing a little, before responding in a low, raspy voice, "I'm good."

"Really." Sam said, rolling his eyes, but he hadn't expected anything else. The extubation had gone relatively smoothly, but within minutes of breathing for himself Callen had gagged and choked and set off a desperate coughing fit that almost had the doctor sedating him again. Sam had managed to intervene, knowing how much Callen hated to be drugged. The medical team had monitored his breathing closely for a full fifteen minutes – a period of time Sam knew would do no good to Hetty's anxiety levels as she waited out in the hall – before finally swapping the oxygen mask for a nasal cannula, and writing Callen up for quarter-hour observations through the night. "Have a drink? It'll soothe your throat." Callen nodded, tired, and Sam passed him the beaker of water from the cabinet beside his bed. Callen held it with a trembling hand, and wordlessly Sam helped him guide it to his lips and take a small sip.

"Thanks." Callen said quietly, averting his eyes, not liking his weakened state. "Sam?" He kept his eyes lowered, impossible to read, but despite the scratchiness of his voice there was urgency and grief in his tone. "How's the boy?"

Sam took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Callen's heart rate started to rise again as he waited for Sam to answer. "Sammm…" he rasped, his breathless voice nonetheless carrying a hint of warning. "No hiding…. Tell me… the truth…"

"G!" Sam exclaimed, and in that one syllable he condensed the last two days of worry and fear. "You just woke up!" Callen started to push himself more upright in the bed, hissing as the pain stabbed in his arm and through his chest. "Hey, easy there," Sam said pleadingly, placing a gentle hand on Callen's shoulder. The daggers in Callen's eyes sent a wordless warning to the bigger man. "He's still alive. He's down the hall. I'm not gonna lie G, it's not looking great for him just now, but he's holding on at the moment, thanks to you."

Callen sank back against the pillows, not realising how tense he had been. They both fell quiet as a nurse came in to check on him, cautioning him to rest and not to talk too much. Callen closed his eyes and took a deep ragged breath as the nurse left. "What happened?" he all but whispered.

"How much do you remember?" Sam asked, curious. Callen shrugged. He remembered flashes, the sedation he'd recently woken from still dulling his sense of time and place. He was having a hard time separating the reality of the last few days from nightmares of old. His heart thudded every time he thought about the boy. If only he had acted quicker. He should have seen the signs, the suspect losing his control, grabbing a hostage, running… He should have run quicker, should have contacted Ops for back up sooner. Should have done this, should have done that. "Stop beating yourself up," Sam said softly, interrupting his thoughts. "It was supposed to be a simple grab for questioning, nothing more. No way of knowing Henderson was going to act the way he did, or that he had another pair of hands at that warehouse." Or what he was storing there, Sam silently added, for he too felt weighed down with guilt. He had almost lost Callen, again, and visions of his lifeless partner in his arms still marched unbidden across his senses.

"Are you… Is everyone… else okay?" Callen asked, his chest burning with the effort of speaking, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Sam looked at him, but kept his thoughts to himself.

"See for yourself," he said. "I'm fine. And Kensi and Deeks are outside with Hetty, waiting to say hi." Callen grimaced, but quickly schooled his face back to neutral. "I can tell them to come back later?" Sam suggested, not missing a beat.

"It's cool, Sam," Callen replied. "It's just…" He banged his right fist down on the bed suddenly, jerking the IV line, frustrated to be in a position of weakness in front of his team.

"I get it," Sam reassured him, not without sympathy, though keeping it hidden for the sake of his independent partner who hated above all to be pitied. "We all get it. Just give them five minutes, and they'll leave you alone. You scared the hell out of us, they just need to see you're okay."

Callen nodded tiredly, and to Sam's amusement drew himself up in the bed slightly despite it clearly causing him pain to do so. He took a couple of steadying breaths, wishing he didn't still have the oxygen tube in his nose, or for that matter the host of other tubes and wires he didn't want to think about. Sam took another long look at him before moving to open the door.

Hetty came in first, giving him another piercing stare. He held her gaze now, telling her he was fine with his eyes. She decided to provisionally believe him, crossing over to the bed to stand beside him as she looked him over critically, seeing past the front he was putting on and playing along for now. "It's good to see you awake again, Mr Callen. The past two days have been…. worrying."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, regretting the rasp in his voice that was doing little to reassure any of them, his concern for her genuine. She always took it hard, he knew.

"Oh Mr Callen, it was hardly your fault!" Hetty exclaimed, stepping back, not wanting to crowd him.

"So," Callen said, side-stepping any apportionment of blame, for he did feel at fault, however irrational it may be. "What…" he started to cough shallowly, his right hand moving to clutch his injured ribs, wincing and trying desperately to steady the gasps as his lungs fought for air. They all waited patiently for him, concern hanging heavily in the air, Sam hovering helplessly. "What… happened?"

"We're still not entirely sure," Kensi answered, coming over and taking his hand, careful to avoid the IV cannula, slightly tentative, but wanting desperately to be near him, to convince herself that he lived.

"Kens… I'm good," he reassured her, with a small smile, understanding her fear of loss. Gasping a bit for breath in his tight chest, and ignoring Sam's warning look, he asked, "How come… we're not… sure?"

"The whole thing has been sealed off while they sort the air quality," Deeks explained. "Seems HazMat have managed to seal the warehouse and contain it, but it's a no go zone until tomorrow."

"We're hoping it doesn't mean Henderson and whoever his ally was have had chance to remove any evidence," Kensi added with a sigh.

"Henderson… made it out?" Callen asked.

"To be honest, we're not entirely sure of that either," Sam admitted.

"There's a guard posted on this floor, Mr Callen," Hetty interjected. "We're not expecting any reprisal on yourself or the boy, but it seemed prudent in the circumstances."

While I'm vulnerable and a burden, Callen interpreted, once again feeling frustrated. He started to sigh, but was stopped by a blinding pain in his chest. Tensing against the pillows, he felt Kensi's grasp tighten on his hand. He hadn't realised he'd closed his eyes, and he opened them again, doing his best to give her another reassuring smile, but it felt more like a grimace, and she didn't look too convinced either. Dammit, he thought, he needed to pull himself together, but his head was pounding and he was so tired. He felt rather than saw Hetty's steely gaze on him, giving him another critical inspection, and he raised his eyes to meet hers. She gave the briefest of nods.

"It's late. I think we've out-stayed our welcome, Ms Blye, Mr Deeks," she said briskly. "Mr Hanna?"

"I'll stay a bit longer, Hetty," Sam answered quietly.

"Feel better, Callen," Kensi said lightly, giving his hand a final squeeze. Callen shut his eyes as she left, dropping the pretence. Sam chuckled at his bull headed partner.

"Sam," Callen whispered through clenched teeth. "You don't… have… to stay."

"Yeah," said Sam. "And where else would I be? Besides, someone's got to stop you driving the nurses to distraction."

"Don't… need… a mother… Sam," Callen muttered, fading once again into a troubled sleep.


	6. Chapter 5

_So there was a comment about me liking to leave you in suspense... this chapter should answer most of that... It wasn't (entirely*) intentional - you may remember I started this crazy journey intending to do a quick H/C with Callen and Sam. The 'beep-beep' Prologue and this chapter was the initial result of that. But then, well, plot bunnies and all that... Hope you're continuing to enjoy._

 _*what's a story without a little suspense ;-)_

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIVE**

 _"SAM! GUN!" Callen cried, and in the split second where survival instinct overtook rational thought, he launched himself towards his partner, his own gun still trained on the suspect, but unable to risk a shot because of the boy being held as cover. Reaching out as far as he could with his left arm, he pushed into Sam, spinning the larger man forward and sideways out of the way of the bullet that seared through his own flesh, piercing through his arm and into the side of his chest. He reeled from the impact, brushing against the open door frame of the warehouse he'd propelled them both towards for cover, almost dropping briefly to the floor, but he kept his eyes glued on the frightened face of the young boy being used as a human shield in front of him._

 _Henderson was backing deep into the warehouse, dragging the scared child with him, and Callen could see the dark outline of the gunman now, still firing a volley of shots in his and Sam's direction. Regardless, ignoring yells from his partner to stay back, he darted through the door frame and kept running forwards, trying to ignore the warm sticky feeling of blood down his arm, instinctually aware of Sam behind him trying to provide backup whilst also single-handedly securing the perimeter. Dammit, where were Kensi and Deeks! He yelled for back up again into his comm, but he was in the warehouse now, taking cover behind the structural columns wherever he could but still desperately moving forwards, trying to find a position where he could get a shot without risking the boy. His comm crackled, unintelligible, and he yelled again, distantly hearing Sam doing the same. A quick backwards glance saw Sam still just outside the massive hangar door, framed almost as though he were part of a scene unfolding on television. Sam was moving some onlookers away from the building, and Callen knew for the time being at least, he was on his own._

 _They'd stopped firing at him, and Callen cautiously crept out of his covered position. They were nearing the back of the warehouse now, racks and racks stretching far and wide – too many hiding places, impossible to clear on his own. On the plus side, good for cover. He silently moved on, as quickly as he dared, straining his ears for any sound. Nothing. He started to find it quite unnerving. Where the hell had the two men gone? Where the hell was the boy?_

* * *

Callen woke with a start, sending the heart rate monitor into a volley of beeps that matched his thumping heart.

"G?" Sam was awake and at his side in an instant.

"Just…" Callen panted. "Just… a dream…" He forced himself to breathe slower. Light from the corridor brightened the dim room as a nurse came enquiringly through the door.

"Everything okay in here?" she asked quietly, looking Callen up and down, not entirely liking what she saw as she crossed to the bed and checked his vitals. "Do you need anything to help you sleep? You haven't taken anything for pain since you came to…" It hovered between a question and a statement. Callen shook his head.

"I'm good," he croaked hoarsely.

"Okay… if you change your mind, just press this call button," she said kindly, tucking it back under his hand. He nodded, and waited til she had closed the door behind her before looking at Sam, who was staring at him expressionlessly.

"What?" he said, wearily running his hand over his face, partly, he had to admit, to hide from Sam's penetrating gaze.

"I don't think you know the definition of good," Sam responded mildly.

"You should go… home… get some… proper sleep," Callen deflected Sam's attention.

"Pretty sure I've slept better than you," Sam countered. "Remembering stuff?"

Callen nodded. "The bullet…" he whispered. "What's the… damage?" He was almost afraid to ask. The last time he'd been on the receiving end of a bullet – okay, five bullets – it had taken him as many months to get back on his feet. He couldn't face that again. The hospital walls were already closing in.

"Through and through in your upper arm, but it carried on going into the side of your chest," Sam informed him, laying out the facts baldly, knowing Callen wouldn't appreciate secrets. "It stuck in your rib. Damned lucky it didn't go through to your lung. They operated to get it out… the rib is cracked, so you'll be sore, but it'll heal easily enough. That dressing on your right arm is just a graze, no stitches. Sloppy of you, getting shot twice." He winked. Callen smirked, but it was automatic, his thoughts elsewhere.

"And… the gas?"

"Something in that goddam warehouse exploded. Crates of powder… turned into gas or fumes or something in the explosion. We're still not sure if Henderson and his mate shot them up deliberately, or if they just exploded. We'll know more when we can get in there tomorrow…" Sam looked at his watch "…later today."

"Sam," Callen grunted, struggling on the bed. "I need… to see… the boy."

"You need," Sam said, slowly and deliberately, "to stop talking, and sleep."

"Sam," Callen said warningly. Sam rolled his eyes.

"It's not even five in the morning, G." And then, seeing the desperation in his partners eyes, resignedly added, "I'll go see what I can do." Callen nodded, starting to sit up, and reaching, wincing, with his thickly bandaged left arm, towards the IV in the back of his right hand. "For God's sake, G!" Sam exclaimed. "Just lie still, and wait… let me sort it!"

Callen waited with very little patience while his partner seemed to be gone an eternity. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the fear on the boy's face, and then felt the reeling thud of the explosion spinning him round and tossing him face down into blackness. He felt the wicked tightness in his chest, and fought to breathe deeply. Eventually, Sam returned with his doctor, and to his dismay, a hospital wheelchair.

"Agent Callen," the doctor addressed him severely. "I really cannot advise this, but your partner has assured me you will rest easier once you have laid eyes on the boy that came in with you."

Callen knew a deal when he heard one, and he swallowed, and nodded.

"I cannot allow your oxygen therapy to discontinue at this stage," his doctor continued, and seeing Callen ready to protest, raised his hand. "I will swap you over to this temporary tank," he gestured to the back of the wheelchair, "but I want you back in this bed in five minutes. Five minutes, is that understood?" Callen nodded, barely hearing Sam's assurances in the background. "Very well," he began disconnecting the IV and monitor leads. "If you will allow me to assist you into the chair, your partner can take you down the hall."

"I… can do it," Callen muttered, hissing as he pushed himself up, and quickly finding Sam's hands supporting his shoulders. Wordlessly, resigned, he allowed Sam to help him stand off the edge of the bed, and lower carefully down into the chair. If he was honest his legs still felt like lead. His chest screamed in protest, and he bit on his lip to avoid making a sound.

"You good?" Sam inquired, laden with concern. Callen met his eyes, and gave a small nod, not trusting his voice after the exertion. "Okay. Five minutes."

* * *

 _Callen crept towards the crumpled heap on the floor, feeling vulnerable in the dark and quiet. There were still no shots being fired in his direction, and yet his senses told him the danger was not yet passed, and they weren't alone._

 _They._

 _The crumpled heap of the boy was desperately quiet and still, and Callen found himself holding his breath as he inched towards it. He could see no signs of blood, and he knew none of his shots had gone astray, but that didn't mean the small figure lying face down didn't have a close range enemy bullet in his chest. Close enough now to reach his hand out, he could see the very slight rise and fall of the rib cage. The boy was still breathing. Total relief was premature, as Callen looked desperately for any sign of Henderson and the other man with the gun. Keeping as much of his body behind the racking as possible, gun temporarily on the floor beside him, he reached out to put a hand on the boy's leg to rouse him. The sound of a gun being fired far too close for comfort almost made him jump, and he hissed in pain as the bullet grazed his forearm, stinging, oozing blood, but not debilitating, not this time. There was no time to move the boy gently – he grabbed the leg nearest him and pulled, dragging the child into the relative safety of the cover provided by the racking. He picked up his gun, wincing as the movement pulled on the graze, and returned fire, giving himself a moment or two of cover to bundle the boy up and start running back towards Sam._

 _The boy wasn't big, but Callen's left arm was still bleeding from the earlier shot he had taken, and he kept his right hand on his gun ready to defend them. The quickest route would have been down the central main aisle of the warehouse, but Callen didn't dare risk exposing them both so openly, so he weaved in and out of smaller aisles, sweating as he tried to keep a firm grip round the unconscious boy with an arm that was growing weaker by the second. It felt like he had been running forever, but in reality it was only a few seconds before he heard gunfire behind him again, and he instinctively ducked. He fired a single return shot, conscious of only five bullets left now, and almost a hundred yards between him and the backup of his partner and the outside world. Keeping his body protectively hunched over the boy he huddled in front of him, he kept moving as fast as he could, and since Henderson now knew exactly where he was, he broke his silence and yelled his position into the comm for Sam. It was still crackling, with no intelligible words coming his way, and he yelled again, hoping for one way communication at least._

 _At last, he caught sight of Sam coming towards him, moving stealthily but fast around the big loading bays near the entrance. He was still too far away to offer Callen much in the way of protective cover fire, but Callen knew Sam had seen him, and would move as quickly as he could to relieve Callen of the boy's burden. He caught Sam's eyes as he rounded between two wooden crates, keeping his head below the top of them, straining with the effort of running and carrying the boy so awkwardly. Clear of the crates, he was able to move faster in the relative cover they offered – and then he heard and felt a loud, vibrating bang, and reeling, using instinct as much as conscious thought, he managed to spin so that he landed next to the boy and not on top of him. And then his world was black._

* * *

"He's doing okay," the nurse said gently to Callen, who couldn't stop staring at the small child on the bed, festooned with wires and tubes, air being pumped artificially into him just as it had been for himself not many hours before. "He's starting to breathe for himself. It's early days but we'll know more how much damage there is to his lungs when he wakes up."

"If he wakes up," Callen muttered pessimistically, eyes dark with remembered horrors of the boy's terrified face the last time he had been awake. "Where's…" he fought to get a deep breath, half feeling Sam's hand touch his shoulder protectively. "Where's… his family?"

"At the moment, we don't know who he is, G," Sam said, knowing the implication of what he was saying would hurt his partner more. Callen gazed up at Sam with hollow eyes. "Come on. Let's get you back to your room, you need to rest."

For once, Callen didn't argue, meekly allowing himself to be pushed back down the hall, his empty stare seeing nothing but the small figure on the bed, alone.

"Bathroom?" he said quietly, as they got back to his room. Sam, tired from his two-day vigil, didn't hear at first. "Sam!" Callen spoke a little more insistently. "I need… the bathroom."

"What? Oh, right. Sorry, G. World of my own." The big ex-Seal shook his head as if to clear the fog, and gently hauled Callen up. "You good?"

"I can… go to the… bathroom," Callen answered, but his withering tone was lost as he wheezed. He shrugged, gritting his teeth against the pain it caused in his left arm, and stalked on leaden legs past Sam into the corner bathroom of his room. Sam moved the wheelchair as close as possible to the door, allowing the maximum reach of the oxygen tubing, and finally, with the door shut and a few moments to himself at last, Callen allowed himself a small display of weakness, leaning on the sink and staring dark-eyed into the mirror above. His eyes filled momentarily with tears, thinking of the boy with no one at his bedside, and he shook his head, going about his business in the bathroom, panting with the exertion. When he opened the door, he saw Sam had taken a seat on one of the two plastic chairs under the window. Wordlessly, each breath a struggle, he crossed to the bed, and sat on the edge, head hanging, trying to gather himself.

"The nurse will be back in a few to swap the oxygen back over," Sam informed him quietly, and he nodded, too emotionally drained to argue. "Do you want to talk?" Sam offered, knowing the answer, but compelled to ask all the same.

"No," Callen sighed wearily. "Thanks, Sam."

"You're welcome," Sam stood up, and coming and standing in front of Callen, he placed both his big hands on Callen's exhausted shoulders. "I'm going home for a nap. If you're going to be okay here…" he left the question dangling, and Callen nodded.

"I'm fine…" he paused for breath. "Sam. Keep me… in the loop… with the case?"

"Sure thing," Sam agreed, knowing nothing would keep Callen down for long, and the best way of keeping him where he needed to be, in the hospital, was to keep him involved, no secrets. "Just remember, this was NOT your fault."


	7. Chapter 6

_Little bit of Callen and Sam H/C in this, sorry if that doesn't appeal to all, but I love a bit of vulnerable Callen now and then._

* * *

 **CHAPTER SIX**

Sam drove home, hoping against hope that Callen would get a few hours of proper rest. He fired a quick couple of texts to Kensi, Deeks and Hetty, arranging for the three of them to meet in Callen's room at the hospital at 9am, instead of up at Ops. Eric and Nell could give them any updates there, and they could formulate a plan. Exhausted, he set an alarm, and fell asleep almost instantly.

The three hours he had allowed himself disappeared in the blink of an eye, but as a Seal he'd long since trained himself to catch sleep where he could, and he rose with the energy of a man who had slept solidly for eight hours, not just three. He showered, breakfasted, and pulled the Challenger back into the hospital parking lot at quarter to nine, feeling refreshed.

Callen, to his surprise, was out of bed. Still with the oxygen tube in his nose, he nonetheless looked brighter than even just a few hours before, sitting in the tall patient chair which had been moved nearer the window. His bandaged left arm was in a sling, a fact Sam knew was guaranteed to piss his partner off, but although Sam could still see the cannula in his right hand, the IV and all the other wires and tubes had been disconnected and tidied away.

"How long was I gone?" Sam teased, sitting again on one of the plastic chairs under the window as he looked Callen up and down.

"Guess I'm just… a quick healer," Callen replied, still a little hoarse, and seeing the flash of concern in Sam's eyes at his shortness of breath, quickly said, "Sam… I'm fine. Chest… a bit tight still… that's all."

"Uh-huh," Sam grunted. "Truth be told, I'm more worried about that outfit you're wearing. Not exactly your colour now is it?" and they both looked at the tired grey-white hospital gown Callen still wore, pinstripes of a miniature repetitive hospital logo running up and down it in faded orange and brown.

"Yeah… about that," Callen said, awkwardly. "Doc said… I could shower… get dressed… if someone… could help…"

"I guess that lucky someone is me!" Sam grinned, knowing that was as close to asking for help as his partner was going to get. "Unless you'd rather wait for Hetty?" he chuckled as Callen glared at him. "Clothes?"

Callen nodded towards the bedside cabinet. "Hetty," they both said in unison, and Sam pulled a bag from the bottom cupboard which proved to contain jeans, a tee shirt, a button down casual shirt and underwear and shoes. "Come on then," Sam said, leaving the bag of clothes on the bed and offering a hand to Callen to help him up. It took a little more effort than he expected, but Callen seemed stable enough once he was on his feet, and Sam once again marvelled at the resilience of the guy, though he'd bet on at least half of it being an act. He watched as Callen fumbled with the oxygen tube, pulling it awkwardly over his head and discarding it on the chair. "You okay without that?" Sam asked. "You're not going to pass out on me or anything?"

"Wouldn't you… like that…?" Callen panted, winking. "Be… fine." He made his way slowly round the foot of the bed to the bathroom, where there was a walk in shower. He leant on the shower surround while Sam untied the awful gown, cursing the leaden weakness he still felt through his entire body. The doctor had seen him on his rounds first thing, and cautioned that the weakness was a residual effect of the fumes and the trauma to his lungs, and couldn't immediately be shrugged off. Callen was already plotting escape attempts, but he knew that Sam and Hetty would be harder to get past than any amount of hospital security. He turned slowly toward Sam, nodding his head towards the sling and the bandage on his arm. "The… nurse… will… redo…" Damn, his lungs were failing fast. He took a steadying breath. "After…"

"Dressing change?" Sam said, understanding, and Callen nodded gratefully as Sam removed the sling and unwrapped the top layer of bandage. Some blood had seeped through the layers and Callen shut his eyes. Damn and double damn. He jumped slightly as the water from the shower roared, having not noticed Sam reach round him to turn it on, and used Sam's offered arm to move into the cubicle, relishing the feel of the warm water running through his hair and down his back. His chest was so tight he didn't dare stay in there for long, hoping with desperation to make it dressed and back to his room without any further humiliating displays of weakness. Sam wordlessly handed him a towel, helping him dry off and get dressed in his jeans, to his appreciation not passing comment on the rasping little gasps and coughs that now passed for him as breathing. Somehow, he held it together, and ended up back on the bed, bare chested, while Sam went to find the nurse to sort out the damp bandage on his arm. To Callen's dismay, it was Hetty who appeared first.

"Good morning, Mr Callen," she greeted, appraising him. "I'd like to say you look better this morning, but…"

He nodded, too out of breath to engage in conversation, but managed the single word, "Temporary."

"I see," she replied. "I will wait outside until you are finished getting dressed." He cringed, but as Hetty exited, his nurse entered with a trolley of dressing supplies, and he wasn't sure who he'd rather have least in his room at that moment.

"Behave," Sam ordered him, from behind the nurse. The nurse took one look at Callen's heaving chest, and fished behind the top of the bed for an oxygen mask which she connected up and placed firmly over his mouth and nose. Sensing his imminent protest, Callen felt Sam's hand on his arm. "I mean it," Sam stated, only half joking. "Don't make me restrain you." Callen shut his eyes, and Sam nodded consent to the nurse, who went about removing and replacing the bandage on his arm and the dressing covering the stitches on the side of his ribcage. Cleaning both wounds caused Callen to wince, but he stayed absolutely still, dragging in deep gasps of oxygen with a rattle in his chest that had Sam shuddering to hear it. Eventually – and it felt far longer to Callen than it actually was – the ordeal was over, and Sam helped gently ease his freshly bandaged arm into his shirt before the nurse refastened the sling.

"I'll give you a few minutes," Sam murmured quietly, knowing Callen would want to recompose himself before Hetty and the others came in.

* * *

"Morning, Mr Hanna," Hetty greeted him as Sam sat next to her in the waiting area near Callen's room. "Ms Blye and Mr Deeks are here; they have gone to get some breakfast for all of us." Sam nodded. "How is Mr Callen?" she asked.

"He's okay," Sam replied, "Though that gas has done a number on his lungs..."

"He's been lucky," Hetty agreed. "If he'd been further in the warehouse at the time… If you hadn't got them both out into fresh air so quickly…" Sam nodded soberly. The young boy hostage still clung precariously to life further down the hall, a stark reminder for all of them what could have happened to Callen in just a fraction more time.

"I should have got him out first," Sam muttered quietly. "The boy probably won't make it either way. If G's lungs are permanently damaged, Hetty…"

"You did the right thing, Mr Hanna," Hetty said firmly. "You did your duty – and you did what Mr Callen would have wanted. He will be okay."

"Hey, Sam!" Sam looked up to see Kensi and Deeks approaching, armed with a tray of drinks and two paper bags of food. "Morning!"

"Morning yourself," Sam acknowledged, putting on a smile, and getting up to lead the way back into Callen's room. He knocked gently, and opened the door just enough to look in himself first, relieved to see his friend seated back in the tall padded chair, the oxygen mask once again replaced with the more discreet tube in his nose. "Hey, G," he announced as he opened the door wider for them all to enter.

"Morning." Callen welcomed his team as one, his voice, for the time being at least, under control. Out of politeness to Hetty, he used his good arm to push himself to vertical and offer her the more comfortable chair, but she quickly ordered him to sit back down, herself taking one of the hard plastic seats under the window, next to him. Kensi joined Hetty on the second seat, Deeks, after offering breakfast to them all, leant against the wall, and Sam perched protectively on the edge of the bed nearest Callen's chair. Kensi passed the hot drinks around, and Callen, who had refused Deeks' offer of food, gratefully accepted the steaming cardboard cup of tea she handed him with an almost steady hand and a quiet "Thanks."

"How are you doing?" she asked, scrutinising him in the way he had become accustomed to over the past 24hrs; he didn't like it, but accepted it as inevitable. "You're looking better," she added.

"Not too hard," Deeks joked. "Those hospital gowns make anyone look at deaths door."

"Thank you, Mr Deeks," Hetty said, drawing attention away from Callen. "Now, if we could focus on the case?"

"I spoke to Nell on the way here," Kensi said. "HazMat still haven't released the building, but we should have access later today. She's waiting to brief us from Ops." Kensi fished a laptop out of her bag, and set it up on the end of the bed where they could all see it. She connected them to Ops, and Eric and Nell appeared on the screen.

"Hey guys, hey Callen!" Nell greeted them all, relieved to see Callen out of bed and dressed. "How are you doing?" Callen nodded at her, raising his hand with the half-drunk tea by way of greeting, still not, Sam noted, offering more than a single word here and there. He came unobtrusively to his partner's aid.

"Fill us in, Nell?"

"Sure thing. Without being able to get inside the warehouse, we're still trying to put everything together, but we have established that there is a connection between Peter Henderson and John Bates. You remember Henderson was a former marine?" She directed her question at Callen, but they all nodded. "So was Bates. They worked on the same base, at Camp Pendleton. Henderson was dishonourably discharged nine months ago as we discovered on Tuesday, but up until last week, Bates was still active."

"Until… last week?" There was a moment of quiet as they all heard the strain in his voice, and saw the effort with which he drew breath after speaking.

"Yes." Nell paused. "End of last week, Bates went AWOL. We sent LAPD to his house yesterday, as soon as we discovered the connection and couldn't get hold of him to speak to. There were no signs of forced entry, or a struggle, but the back door was unlocked, and Bates is missing. He appears to live alone, but records show a wife and son, possibly estranged? LAPD have searched his house. His passport was found in a study, but it looks like he may have packed a bag upstairs – that's guesswork, but various clothes were pulled out of his wardrobe onto the bed. Otherwise, not many clues."

"We still haven't identified your shooter at the warehouse," Eric took over. "CCTV from the neighbouring building shows another man nearby not long before Callen and Sam got there. We've run facial rec, and it's not Henderson. It might be Bates, but the CCTV image we have isn't clear enough to confirm. It's possible he is the shooter… "

"We're hoping there's some sort of CCTV inside the warehouse you were in, Callen," Nell said. "But until we can get in there to look, we're blind."

"I didn't see… any," Callen told them.

"Well, as soon as we're granted access, you guys can take a look," Nell said. "It's possible there were cameras covering the offices, which from the building schematics look to be at the back, probably further in than you would have got to?" Callen nodded.

"The boy was dumped… half way…" he confirmed. "Maybe a bit further." He paused, breathing heavily. "Shots fired… from the north… east corner…. Above ground level."

"Maybe from the offices and staff room," Nell explained. "They're situated along the east wall, a little higher than the ground floor of the main warehouse. There looks to be an office with an exterior door in the north east corner. If there's cameras in those offices, or covering that exit, we might get a hit on anyone entering or leaving."

"Henderson ran in from the front with the boy," Sam said, looking at Callen. "Someone must have known he was coming, and raised the door?" Callen nodded. It had seemed that way to him too, the way Henderson had known where to run to, where to hide, and the warehouse was conveniently open for him. "Do you think the second guy was already in there?" Callen nodded again. "So either Henderson was communicating with whoever was inside, or the guy inside could see the whole thing playing out and raised the door in the hope Henderson could get to it as a bolt hole. There might be CCTV out the front too if that's the case."

"If there is, it's a hidden and closed system," Eric said. "I can't find any trace of one in the area to hack into, other than those we've already looked at on neighbouring buildings."

"Henderson… does he…" Callen paused again to catch his breath, trying not to let the frustration show. He was aware of all their eyes on him as he shifted uncomfortably, but they waited patiently. "Does he have… any ties… to…"

"To the warehouse?" Nell interrupted, looking quickly uncomfortable but then relieved as Callen nodded. Ordinarily, she'd never have dared interrupt him, but finishing other people's sentences had always been one of her bad habits, especially when she was nervous, and seeing any of her team members injured always made her nervous. It reminded her of the possibility that one day they just might not all come home.

"The ownership of the warehouse is complicated," Eric explained. It's been sold numerous times over the past few years, and is currently rented to Xingu – they own a couple of warehouses, but rent most. Henderson's name cropped up as a member of a small corporation that briefly owned the warehouse earlier this year, which might explain how he knew of it?"

"We're still filtering all the other names linked to the warehouse, to see if any have any link at all to either Henderson or Bates," Nell said. "Nothing yet, but it's going to take some time. Most of the owners have been big companies with hundreds of employees. Again, we're hopeful that once you guys get inside, you can find a paper trail to shed some light on how all this is connected."


	8. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

"G? You good?" Sam's voice was slightly tinny, but sounded loud in the quiet hospital room. He was driving the Challenger back towards the warehouse, Deeks in the passenger seat. Kensi had gone on ahead separately with a small team to provide overwatch, setting up with sniper rifles on three surrounding buildings giving them good coverage of the warehouse doors.

They had spent the earlier part of the morning with Callen, planning this search. Callen was the only one who had seen the interior of the warehouse beyond the crates which had exploded near the main doors. He had done his best to brief them, frustration building as every word became a struggle for him to utter, but that paled into insignificance compared to how he felt now, with his team out on a potentially dangerous mission while he felt almost a prisoner in the hospital. On advice from the doctor, who insisted in no uncertain terms that he must continue to receive oxygen and be closely monitored for at least the next 24 hours, Hetty had refused to allow him even to oversee the mission from Ops, and so he was on comm in his room, straining not to miss anything visually on the small laptop screen Kensi had left set up.

"I'm… fine, Sam," he reassured his partner, inwardly cursing at how all the recent talking had taken a toll on his chest. His limbs were feeling stronger, and he rose once again to pace the small room, stopping at the window to stare out with unseeing eyes. The forefinger and thumb of his left hand, still trapped inside the sling, rubbed together in concentration, the habit he had developed so long ago he had forgotten why and how it had started offering him little comfort now. The sound of the door opening made him jump, and he reached instinctively for his gun at the small of his back – a pointless manoeuvre that served only to start a coughing fit, since his gun was not there, and it was only Hetty returning in any case.

Hetty stood calmly, watching him, while he retched and coughed, trying not to show concern at the time it took for him to get himself under control and catch his breath. "Why don't you sit down, Mr Callen," she said eventually, coming round the bed with a glass of water for him, two cups of tea in a cardboard holder temporarily discarded on the cabinet.

"Hetty… I'm fine," he grumbled, but she could hear in his voice that he wasn't.

"Our opinions, Mr Callen, appear to differ. Now sit down." After a moment, he complied, noting on the laptop that the dashcam showed the car stationary. Sam had arrived.

"Sam?" he coughed.

"All good, G. Switching to button cam. You got a visual?"

"Yep," came the terse reply.

"Okay. We're moving in. Kens, you got the exits covered?"

"All covered, Sam. If anyone comes out, we'll see them."

"Please remember, Ms Blye, we need non-lethal shots," Hetty reminded them all. "We need to take anyone you find in, and get to the bottom of this."

Callen paid little attention to the exchange, watching intently as Sam moved across the uncleared debris to the warehouse door that two days ago had been rolled up, a gaping black hole luring him in after the innocent boy. He shuddered slightly as Sam whispered, "Kens? 3, 2, 1…" flicking up the rolling door that had been pulled down but left unlocked while HazMat had been on the scene. Callen could see what was left of the two large crates he had run past with the boy in his arm. They had blown outwards, and the whole area around them, towards the door, was covered in a fine grey powder.

"Are we safe to breathe this in?" Deeks asked, only half joking. "HazMat have cleared it, right?"

"It's safe," Nell's voice came over their comms. "The toxins burnt out in the explosion, turning to fumes which HazMat have neutralised."

"All the same…" Deeks said. "Maybe let's not kick it up too much, hey Sam?"

"You don't need to tell me twice," Sam agreed, and they skirted carefully around the side, the side Callen had come running. "G?"

"Main aisle… to your right…" Callen said. "I didn't… go down there. Stayed left… more cover."

"Got it," Sam said, motioning to Deeks to follow him. "We'll sweep and clear this side first, work our way backwards to the offices. SWAT can take the central aisle and the right hand side. Damn, this place is a maze." Sam gestured to the SWAT team of four men behind him to fan out and cover the central and right side, he and Deeks moving into the warehouse through the narrower aisles on the left, the way Callen had come back. As Callen had found, the rows and rows of high racking offered good cover, but also a large and potentially dangerous area to clear. They swept it carefully, quietly, seeing in places the trail of blood probably from Callen's arm. It pooled slightly when they were two-thirds of the way down the warehouse, near the central aisle, and even before Callen's voice came over the comm, Sam knew this was where he'd stopped and found the boy. "Here, G?" he checked.

"Yes," Callen confirmed. "Shots came… north east… about your… 2 o'clock…" Even over the comm, Sam could hear the tell-tale signs of Callen's throat and chest tightening, and he felt fear for his partner when he should have been focusing on his own safety in the dark warehouse. He felt rather than saw Deeks start to make, and then stop himself making, a gesture of support, nodding gratitude to the astute detective as he brought himself back to the present.

"Stop talking," he admonished Callen gruffly, and with a herculean effort he returned his attention fully to the warehouse as he and Deeks continued their sweep.

* * *

"Kens, still nothing?" Sam checked. They'd covered the entire ground floor of the warehouse, finding nothing of any note. Callen had remained silent, not seeing anything that caught his attention.

"No movement, Sam," Kensi confirmed.

"We're going to need some uniforms to look through all the crates and packages in here," Deeks said, and Sam nodded his agreement. They'd looked into a few open cases as they swept through, but had found nothing unexpected. The warehouse mostly seemed to store large boxes of dvds, in bulk ready for distribution.

"Callen, Kens, we're going to go up and check the offices," Sam advised, and she responded with "Copy that."

"Be… careful," Callen cautioned.

"Keep your eyes open," Sam replied. "I'm one up on saving your ass at the moment, you owe me."

"Took a… bullet… already," Callen joked back, unable to help the slight smirk twitching at his lips despite the blackness he felt to not be there now, backing up his team. He had been sitting down again, watching the button cam feed while he drank the tea from Hetty, but he got up restlessly as Sam and Deeks got outside the office door. It was locked, and Callen watched as Deeks crouched down to apply his lock picks to the problem. Cautiously, they opened the door. Watching them, Callen felt his heart thumping in his chest, and he flinched when Hetty touched his arm.

"Take a seat, Mr Callen," she ordered, softly, half an entreaty, watching her stubborn lead agent wage an inner battle with himself.

"Hetty," he said warningly, but to her relief he sat, tidying the excess length of the oxygen tube with his free hand as he did so. Once sorted, he bowed his head, breathing as deeply as he could, fighting for inner calm.

"Give it time, Mr Callen," Hetty spoke quietly, sensing the rising terror he felt at being trapped in one room.

"Hetty," he coughed. "I need…" he swallowed. "I need… out of… here," he finished, not looking at her.

"Callen," she responded quietly, and so rarely did she address him in that way, that he looked up and met her calm blue eyes. His own were grey, troubled and stormy, and she reached out to place her small hand over his. "Give it time," she repeated, and he nodded, breaking the moment by returning his attention to the screen. Sam and Deeks were through the locked door and sweeping methodically through a chain of small offices, all connected by a narrow corridor that ran the length of them, with large windows over-looking the warehouse on the right hand side, and doors to each office on the left. The first four offices were clear, doors standing open and showing little sign of work or any kind of life at all going on in them, and Callen started to relax - but it was short-lived as he noticed a broken pane of glass in the window opposite the fifth and final door.

"Sam," he breathed into his comm. "Glass. Broken." Sam turned to the window, and Callen could see a direct line of sight to where he had crouched behind the racking in the centre of the warehouse, reaching an arm out to pull the unconscious boy to safety. The glass must have been broken by Henderson or his mate taking the shot at him that had grazed his forearm.

"The boy was a lure for you," Sam said darkly. "To draw you out somewhere visible."

"Good job he… missed," Callen agreed tersely, looking down at the dressing on his right arm.

Sam turned back, and now Callen could see that Deeks was again crouching down with his lock picks. The final office door was locked. They all remained absolutely silent as Deeks carefully turned the handle, pushing the door slowly and quietly open for Sam to enter.

Hetty wasn't sure who let out a breath first as Sam and then Deeks could be heard saying 'Clear!', crackling over the comm loudly in the silence. Callen's breath was rattling and shallow, and she knew, irrational though it might be in the deserted warehouse, he'd been expecting an ambush. They watched as Sam rounded the far desk, bending over slightly to angle his button camera down to the floor. "G, Hetty, you seeing this?" he asked?

Callen nodded, mouth dry, and it was Hetty who replied, "Yes, Mr Hanna. Do we have an ID?"

"I'm pretty sure it's John Bates," Sam said, moving a little more to get a clearer look at the face of the body they had found left on the floor. "It looks like he's been shot."


	9. Chapter 8

_Thank you so much for the support this story is getting - as a new writer it really means a lot. Slightly longer chapter here, with another Sam flashback, so I hope you will enjoy it._

* * *

 **CHAPTER EIGHT**

They reconvened back at the hospital an hour later. In the meantime, Hetty tried to persuade Callen to eat some of the lunch that had been brought round for him. He ate slowly, without enthusiasm, quickly giving up, and Hetty bit her tongue not to comment. She hoped when Sam returned, some of Callen's troubled mood would lift.

"Wow, G, you look like crap," Sam said by way of greeting as he entered the room. Hetty rose quietly and left, knowing Callen needed Sam right now, even if he wouldn't admit it. She motioned to Kensi and Deeks to join her, and they walked a short way down the corridor, stopping in a quiet window alcove to debrief, and give Callen and Sam some time alone.

Callen refused to look at Sam, standing stubbornly by the window, looking out. There wasn't much of a view, but still, better than being trapped in the room, hooked up to the oxygen tank like a dog chained to a wall. He knew damn well what Hetty and Sam were doing, not leaving him on his own, giving him no chance of escape. He felt his head pounding and he swallowed uncomfortably, feeling the burn in his throat and hating how his body was letting him down.

"Hetty said you've been wearing a hole in the floor, pacing around. You need to rest, G. Give your lungs a chance." Though he tried to remain casual, there was a hint of entreaty in Sam's voice. Nell's research into the powder and the dangerous fumes it produced when burnt up had made them all aware of how close they'd come to losing Callen for good, and Sam had to shut the doors in his mind from going down that road.

His tone caused Callen to turn to him, reluctantly making eye contact. Callen saw through the light smile Sam had plastered on his face, saw the underlying worry he didn't want to see and should have aimed to reassure, but when he eventually spoke, it was a plea. Hollowly, maintaining eye contact, he whispered, "Get me… out… Sam. I can't…" he gestured to the sling, the oxygen tube, the room.

Sam looked at him, saying nothing, but seeing what Callen couldn't quite hide. He crossed to the table, inspecting the lunch tray, and the feeble attempt Callen had made at eating anything from it.

"Lunch alfresco?" he suggested. "I'll take you outside, if you promise to eat something." Callen nodded gratefully, not trusting himself to speak. "Stay here," Sam ordered. "The others are down the hall, so don't even try to sneak out. I'll be right back."

"How is he?" Kensi saw Sam exiting the room and immediately walked the few short steps to speak to him, unable to hide her concern. Deeks and Hetty were a step behind.

"I don't know how much longer we can get him to stay, Hetty." Sam directed his reply at their diminutive boss. "He's feeling trapped, cornered. In his head, all he can see is the boy. He'll do better away from here."

"His doctor says he needs monitoring on the oxygen for at least another 24 hours, Mr Hanna," Hetty said, worry clear in her eyes. "You've all heard his chest. He has no choice."

"He's not going to like it," Sam said darkly. "I've promised I'll take him outside for lunch. You two," he turned to Kensi and Deeks, "go get some food. I'll meet you in the courtyard with him, see if we can get him to lighten up a bit." Hetty nodded her approval.

"I will leave him in your capable hands, Mr Hanna. Keep your phone on, we still have a case to work."

* * *

 _"G!" Sam screamed, shielding his eyes from the dust and debris blown into the air and sprinting towards where he thought his partner was. Dust hung in the air like a shield, the relative darkness as he entered the warehouse making it even harder to see. He coughed, feeling his chest tighten with more than just panic. He didn't know what had caused the explosion that had flattened his partner, but he knew he had to get him, and the boy hostage Callen had been carrying, out of the warehouse and into the fresh air as soon as possible._

 _He almost stumbled over the boy in the dim light and dust. Taking the briefest of seconds to look around, he saw Callen lying face down, covered in grey dust and unmoving, an arm's length from the small body he took now into his arms, spinning and running back to the outside, to the safe, uncontaminated air. "There's an ambulance… coming!" he coughed, thrusting the boy at one of the nearby onlookers he had been pushing back not minutes before. He coughed again, taking a deep breath as he whirled and sprinted back to where his partner lay still. " **G!** " He grabbed Callen under his arms, pulling hard, dragging him back the way he had come, guided by the daylight as the dust started to settle._

 _Outside, he could see one of the bystanders performing CPR on the boy, and before long he was doing the same to Callen, breathing into him, pumping his chest, urging him to fight, to breathe, to live… The approaching urgent wailing of the ambulance sirens took him back all those years ago to Venice Beach, where Callen's blood stained the sidewalk, and he felt the same desperation now as he held his lifeless partner in his arms and looked down at his pale face. No blood pouring out of him this time, but a sight that chilled Sam to the bone just the same._

 _The paramedics wasted no time in bundling the boy into one ambulance and Callen into the second. One of them took hold of Sam, guiding him to the same vehicle as Callen, sitting him down and putting an oxygen mask over his face. He nodded his thanks, taking deep gulping breaths, unable to take his eyes off Callen as the paramedics worked furiously on him, praying desperately once again to whichever God looked after Callen that this wasn't the end._

* * *

Sam re-entered Callen's room with the wheelchair he had procured, not surprised to see his partner still standing sullenly where he'd left him, by the window. He'd removed the sling and the oxygen tube, and he stood, quietly panting, holding the elbow of his injured left arm in his right hand for support. Sam hated to see the dejected demeanour almost as much as he hated the ragged rise and fall of Callen's shoulders as he struggled to breathe air into his damaged lungs.

"Come on," he said, wheeling the chair close to his partner. Callen turned shakily towards him, and Sam gently guided him down, relieved that Callen was not putting up a fuss and insisting on walking. "Here," he turned the oxygen tank stowed in the base of the wheelchair on, and handed his partner the tube to go over his head and in his nose. "Don't bother to argue," he raised a hand as Callen took a deep gulp of air ready to speak. "Any fool can see you need it. You'll end up back on that ventilator if you carry on being stupid." Callen's eyes widened, and he took the tube without further complaint, fumbling to get it in the right place.

"Okay," he said quietly, giving in, bowing his aching head in humiliation as Sam started to push him out of the room and towards the lifts.

Kensi and Deeks were already waiting in a quiet corner of the shady courtyard, perching on the edge of a table surrounded by four chairs. They watched, exchanging worried glances with each other but for once not saying a word, as Sam pushed a disconsolate Callen to join them, trying hard to keep any concern and pity from their eyes.

"I hope you're hungry," Deeks said cheerfully, taking the lead as he so often did on brightening the mood. "Kensi couldn't decide what to get, so we've enough for a small army. Got pizza, some fries, tacos, selection of sandwiches, a salad for Sam…" Sam rolled his eyes as Deeks continued with a long-winded tale he only half heard about something the seller of the salad and sandwiches had said. Kensi unpacked the food and drinks, casting surreptitious glances at her team leader now and then. He looked tired and pale, his thoughts elsewhere, though once Deeks finally exhausted himself it was Callen who spoke first.

"Thanks, guys." Callen winked at Kensi, and she should have known he had noticed her watching him. She smiled back, relieved to see that despite all he'd been through he was still as aware as ever. She watched as he shifted to the edge of the wheelchair, and, seeing his intention, Sam moved closer to offer an arm for him to haul himself up. He accepted without comment, and it was Deeks who cleared his throat and said "Uh…" stopping as Kensi glared at him.

"Nothing wrong… with my legs," Callen said lightly, and the others felt collective relief at the disappearance of the storm at last from his eyes. "So…" he paused. "Working lunch…." He moved to sit in a chair next to the table, and his team followed suit.

"The offices at the warehouse showed little signs of use," Sam started. "All except the last one, which was locked."

"The one where…"

"Where we found Bates," Deeks finished Callen's sentence, and they all noticed the flash of annoyance in his blue eyes, quickly hidden. "Sorry, man," Deeks apologised, and Callen nodded acceptance.

"We had the exits covered," Kensi carried on. "No one snuck out while you guys were searching. Makes sense, Henderson probably left the minute those crates exploded."

"I know I would have done," Deeks said. "Got the hell out of there. He must have known how dangerous the fumes would be after the powder was ignited. He probably didn't intend for you to get out alive."

"The crates exploded because a grenade had been lobbed at them," Sam informed Callen, who raised his eyebrows at him. "Yeah. Lucky you'd got the far side of them before Henderson and his mate got a clear shot, or…" He left the alternative scenario hanging, and Callen inwardly shuddered. He and the boy would be dead for sure if they'd still been the wrong side of those crates. Even if the explosion caused by the grenade hadn't been enough to take them out, Sam wouldn't have been able to get to them and drag them both out into the fresh air in time. "It was a 'lucky' shot, from Henderson's point of view," Sam continued. "He can't have counted on hitting the crates containing the powder, but it certainly solved a problem for him, all our focus turning to rescuing you and the boy, rather than more of us going on in after him... You were close enough it knocked you for six," he said, his eyes inadvertently wandering to the cut on Callen's forehead. "But it wouldn't have been the grenade which killed you."

"Guess I… owe you," Callen said to his partner.

"Maybe you do. Maybe we're even, since you got your arm in the way of me being shot before."

"What's… one more… bullet hole?" Callen joked, and Sam and Deeks rolled their eyes. Kensi snorted.

"Don't you guys start another 'who has been shot the most' contest," she said, mock severely, pushing some of the pizza in Callen's direction. He made a face, and Sam noticed immediately.

"Eating was the deal, G."

Callen raised his hands in mock surrender, not quite hiding a wince as he felt the pull on the stitches in his left bicep. "Okay… okay…" He took a bite. "See? Eating." They all watched him for a moment, before turning to their own food, and for a few minutes the only sounds were them all eating, and Callen's wheezing chest and occasional cough as he struggled to eat and breathe at the same time.

"We are still assuming the hidden shooter was Bates," Deeks said, around mouthfuls of food. "And that Henderson must have shot him after the crates exploded. That's guesswork… but they were both there for a reason, it wasn't random. We found ammo and grenades stored in the warehouse, but the funny thing is they weren't all together, they were spread out amongst all the stock items on the Xingu product list, DVDs, computer games and stuff."

"Hidden… in plain sight?" Callen coughed.

"Maybe," Sam agreed.

"There was a secure CCTV system covering the back office door and the front loading bay where you entered," Deeks carried on, looking at Callen, "so we got the tapes out and the Wonder Twins are running through them up at Ops. Hopefully they'll show something, because we're fresh out of leads at the moment."

"We also seized two computers from that last office," Sam continued, finishing his food and taking a long drink, nudging a bottle of water towards Callen as he did so. Callen gave up on the pizza, and turned his attention to the water, sipping slowly, between breaths. Sam looked at how much he'd eaten, or rather not eaten, but decided to refrain from comment, instead carrying on with updating his partner. "Eric's looking through them now. He rang half an hour ago to say the first one is an admin computer for the warehouse, but it seems to have some sort of malware program installed on it." Sam was watching Callen intently as he spoke, so he didn't miss the familiar signs of two and two being put together as Callen processed what he was saying, and he discreetly motioned for Deeks and Kensi to keep quiet.

Callen took a deep, shaky breath, knowing he wouldn't be able to hide his state of health from his team as his struggling lungs refused to allow him the air he needed to speak normally. They all waited patiently as he started to share his thoughts.

"Xingu… the whole system… is automated… warehouse, right?" He coughed, and Sam wordlessly handed him the water, looking him directly in the eyes and cautioning him, unspoken, to take it easy. Callen nodded. "I'm good," he coughed again. "Give me… a second…" They waited, all eyes on him, and Callen looked down at the water, controlling his breathing before continuing. "What if… Henderson… or… whoever behind this… hacked in? Using a… legit business… to move illegal goods?"

"They could be putting the orders through the genuine customer database," Sam agreed.

"Weapons, the stolen ones from Camp Pendleton?" Kensi added, and Callen nodded, too out of breath to say any more. He looked at Sam, silently giving him permission to take over, and as always, it was as though Sam could read his partner's mind.

"So, Henderson, and whoever he is working with, steal the stuff. Store it discreetly in a warehouse rented by Xingu, give it false order codes, and hack into the Xingu servers to place a false order whenever they want to move any of the goods?" Sam raised his eyebrows at Callen to confirm, and Callen nodded. "They piggyback off the legit Xingu customer database, and because the warehouse is mostly automated, none of them come close to handling the stolen goods once they've left them in the warehouse in the first place."

"That's some pretty good hacking?" Kensi suggested. "I mean, I'm not saying you're wrong, but they must have some connections to pull all that off."

"Well, we know…" Callen spoke again. "We know… Henderson… knew about… the warehouse. Maybe…" Breaking off, struggling, he looked again at Sam.

"Maybe we'll get lucky with Eric and Nell finding some link between Henderson and someone else in one of the corporations that have owned the warehouse in the past. Maybe more than one person. I think Kensi is right, this is more than a two man outfit. But with Bates dead, and Henderson still missing, we are at a dead end for now."

"Let's wait on… Eric… and Nell," Callen agreed, moving restlessly to stand up. Sam stood up next to him, looking at his watch.

"I hate to say it, G, but you've not got a lot left in that tank," he said quietly. Kensi and Deeks busied themselves with clearing the lunch things away, giving Callen and Sam a degree of privacy.

"A walk…?" Callen suggested, desperately, and Sam resignedly nodded.

"Deeks?" Sam turned.

"That's me," Deeks said, mildly surprised to be summoned.

"Push this," Sam told him, gesturing to the wheelchair Callen was effectively tethered to. Lowering his voice, he added, "Give him some room." Sam moved back to Callen's side, ready to grab him if he so much as swayed, but Callen had been right when he said there was nothing wrong with his legs, and though his pace was slow, he moved steadily. Kensi came to his other side, effectively shielding him from onlookers. She carefully took his injured arm in both hands, and he accepted her touch, showing gratitude for their care through his actions if not through words. They negotiated a slow loop back round to the patient door of Callen's hospital wing, and towards the lifts to get back up to his floor. By the time they were in the lift, Callen was sweating and panting rapidly, leaning heavily forwards on his arms on the rail and closing his eyes against the increased pounding in his head. Kensi rubbed his back sympathetically, and Sam noted that the oxygen tank had completely emptied. Callen was struggling badly, and Sam feared that the doctor's request he stay on oxygen for another 24 hours was looking optimistic. Almost a third of those hours had passed, and Callen didn't seem to be coping on his own. "G," he said softly, touching Callen's shoulder. "Come on. Sit down. We've got you the rest of the way."


	10. Chapter 9

_No progress on the case in this chapter, just Callen and Sam... #love_

 _Apologies, I noticed a small error in one of the earlier chapters, so I re-uploaded it (without deleting it this time - see, learning ;-) ...!) I've taken the opportunity to satisfy my OCD and re-upload all of the earlier chapters with the same formatting between the paragraphs! I hope this hasn't buggered it up..._

* * *

 **CHAPTER NINE**

The afternoon passed peacefully. Kensi and Deeks went back to Ops to work on other cases, and Sam sat quietly with Callen, alternating between watching his partner and updating his latest case report on his laptop. Callen, much to Sam's pleasure and relief, slept for a solid three hours once they'd got him back onto his bed, out like a light almost straight away and for once sleeping soundly with no evidence of nightmares. They had wanted to disturb him as little as possible when he returned so exhausted, and so the nurse had simply placed the oxygen mask over his face, leaving him fully clothed on top of the bed. Sam watched as his shallow breaths filled the mask with condensation, his breathing regular in sleep, and with less of a wheeze in his throat and chest than earlier when he had over-exerted himself with talking.

Sam sighed, staring into space. Callen's doctor had done his rounds in the early afternoon, not long after they had returned from lunch. He hadn't wanted to wake Callen, knowing how little the agent had managed to truly rest since waking earlier than they had anticipated from the sedation and refusing any further drugs ever since, and so he and Sam had had a hushed conversation in the doorway. Although Callen was clearly starting to feel stronger physically, his blood oxygen levels were still concerningly low, a fact Sam had immediately relayed to Hetty. Both of them knew they were walking a tightrope with keeping Callen in the hospital much longer, and the doctor remained vague with any firm prognosis, simply assuring them it was early days and not to worry, everything was progressing in the right direction.

"What time… is it?" Callen's quiet voice made Sam jump. He turned his head to see Callen looking at him, pulling the mask off his face so he could speak clearly.

"Leave that alone," Sam reprimanded him, standing up and crossing to the bed to look down at his partner, placing the mask back gently but firmly. "How are you feeling?"

Callen shrugged, not wanting to admit to the still pounding headache or the wicked tightness in his chest that Sam was surely aware of anyway. He turned away from his partner's worried eyes to fumble for the bed controls, a small grunt of frustration escaping when he couldn't reach them. He felt vulnerable lying down like that, and Sam understood and silently pressed the right buttons to raise the head of the bed.

"You could have just asked," he said lightly.

"Don't push it… Sam…" Callen's voice was muffled under the mask, but Sam could hear the irritation in it. He stood carefully inspecting his partner, who had shut his eyes again. Sam knew any further probing into Callen's health would just elicit the stock answer 'I'm fine', and it was clear he was not fine, so Sam tried a different tack.

"Have you taken anything for pain yet?" he asked, gently. Callen wearily opened his eyes and gave the slightest shake of his head. The movement set his stomach rolling and he gagged, clenching the sheets in both hands as he tried desperately not to throw up in front of Sam.

"That's… why," he eventually admitted once he had things back under control, and Sam nodded understandingly. Callen had always struggled with the nauseating effects of pain relief, and that was without the side effects of the gas too.

"Can I… have a drink?"

Sam turned to pour a glass of water from the bedside jug. "Here," he said, holding it while Callen pulled the mask down and reached to take it, sipping gratefully. "Better?"

"Not as good… as a… cold beer," Callen grumbled, and Sam chuckled. "How long did I… sleep?"

"Almost dinner time," Sam said, and Callen made a face, not relishing the prospect of another hospital meal. "Relax," Sam laughed. "I'm sure if it's really bad, we can sneak you in something decent. Get Deeks undercover as an orderly." Callen smirked. "Put that mask back on, I've got to go and find your doctor. He missed assessing you properly earlier today." Callen grimaced but obeyed, resting his head back on his pillows and letting his mind wander anywhere but inside those hospital walls.

* * *

 _The silence was oppressive, and the darkness. There was enough light to see, just about. Callen inched forward, scanning with desperate eyes and ears for any sign of the boy and his captors. The rows and rows of racking seemed to go on forever, multiplying the more he looked at them. His breathing sounded loud in the silence, giving him away. He tried blinking, his eyelids heavy as he tried to clear the darkness, but it only seemed to get blacker._

 _Then, out of the blackness, he saw it. A crumpled heap on the floor. Not moving. He ran to it, disregarding his own safety. Crouching down next to the boy, he flipped him over, and immediately bowed his head in grief, seeing the ashen face of the child with two large spreading bloodstains over his heart._

* * *

"G!" Sam burst back into the room, seeing the violent twitching that signified Callen was in the throes of a nightmare. "Callen! Wake up, buddy, wake up!" He reached out and gently shook Callen by the shoulder. Callen instantly came to, grabbing Sam forcefully by the wrist with his left hand, and swinging his right arm back for a punch. "Oh no you don't," Sam chided him, ready for it, and gently parrying the oncoming blow. Callen looked up at Sam and shook his head with confusion, almost as if he was trying to shake his thoughts clear. He carefully removed his fingers from the tight grasp he had around Sam's wrist, hissing as he realised he had pulled on the stitches in his arm, and pulled the oxygen mask down to speak.

"Sorry," was all he uttered, his voice low.

"I leave you for five minutes, and you fall asleep," Sam teased, making light of it.

"Guess I… missed your… dazzling conversation…" Callen huffed, a little embarrassed. His embarrassment grew as he saw his doctor standing in the doorway, but he turned back to Sam. "Sam?" His partner raised his eyebrows at Callen's serious tone. "The boy? Is he..?" he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Dead?" Callen nodded. "No. He's still hanging in there. He's through the worst they think, with any luck, he'll make it. Why?"

"I thought…" Callen sighed. "Never… mind."

"Agent Callen," his doctor crossed over to the bed. "It's perfectly normal for some things to still be unclear while there are traces of the sedative we gave you the first two days in your system." Callen nodded, his head still feeling heavy and sluggish. "You were asleep when I came round before. I need to check you over, if that's okay?"

"I guess I… don't have… much choice…" Callen said reluctantly.

"No, you don't," Sam spoke firmly, before the doctor even had a chance to open his mouth. "Want me to go?" Callen shook his head.

"You might… as well stay… save me… repeating…" he gestured to the doctor. "What… he says." He grimaced, hating the constricting effect the gas was still having on his lungs.

"First things first," the doctor addressed him, sternly eyeing the oxygen mask Callen still had dropped round his neck so he could speak more clearly. "You'll be more comfortable if I swap this back over." He busied himself round the back of the bed, tidying the oxygen mask away and replacing it instead with the nasal cannula which he gently positioned back on Callen, standing back to watch as his patient's chest grew quieter. "Better?"

"I guess so," Callen admitted grudgingly. "When can I… get out of here?"

"See how you go tonight, and we'll reassess the continuation of your oxygen therapy in the morning," the doctor responded vaguely, shooting a glance at Sam that the big man, reading between the lines, interpreted as unlikely that his partner would be going anywhere tomorrow.

* * *

"I've had about enough… of this…" Callen muttered grumpily as they walked slowly down the hospital corridor, Sam pushing the wheelchair that harboured the temporary oxygen tank.

"Why don't you save your breath for walking, and quit moaning?" Sam scolded him, only half joking. He knew some of Callen's grumpiness was directed at him, since he had over-ridden Callen's 'I'm fine' answers to any of the doctor's questions, and advised the medic of his partner's continuing headache and occasional nausea. In the end, reluctantly beaten, Callen had tetchily done all he was bidden for his doctor to examine him, and had managed once again to negotiate a temporary release from his room. It wasn't much; they'd been strictly forbidden to leave hospital grounds as the short-term tanks only held enough oxygen for a couple of hours, and Callen was still technically on hourly obs, but it was a balmy LA evening and Sam knew Callen would fare better outside so, although it went against his better judgement after the state Callen had been in after his walk at lunchtime, Sam had backed his partner up. He just wished Callen no longer needed the constant supply of oxygen, for he could clearly see the borderline level of panic Callen was doing his best to keep locked below the surface because of it.

Slowing his pace for Callen to keep up, Sam smiled slightly to himself as he thought back over the conversation Callen and his doctor had had regarding the sling. Callen's doctor had tried to insist, telling him the muscle needed to rest in order to heal properly, and Callen, despite being on the face of it at a disadvantage in the negotiating stakes, had held firm, demonstrating to the doctor that his arm was working perfectly well, though how he had managed to hide any sign of pain as he moved and flexed it to back up his argument, Sam didn't know. His partner was one of a kind, that was for sure.

"You'd better spring… me from… here… tomorrow," Callen continued grumbling as he held a door for Sam to push the infernal wheelchair through.

"Maybe when you can string a sentence together without puffing like a steam train," Sam responded, immediately regretting making a point of it as Callen glared at him. "I'm sorry," Sam said, briefly raising his hands apologetically. "But the doctor had a fair point. They expected you to still be on the ventilator til tomorrow," Sam reminded him, concern once again lacing his voice despite his best efforts to hide it. "Give it time."

"You sound… like Hetty."

"Well those fumes were nasty," Sam said, sober for a moment. "Seriously, G, you're lucky to still be here."

"I know," Callen sighed. "I'm sorry. I will… try to be… a more patient… patient."

"That'll be a first," Sam muttered, and then more loudly, gesturing to a bench, suggested, "Sit here for a bit?" Callen shrugged but complied, and they both sat, companionably silent for a while. "How's your arm really?" Sam asked eventually.

"Good enough to… take on Deeks," Callen smirked. "Maybe Kensi. You… maybe tomorrow…"

"Oh yeah," Sam laughed. "When have you and I ever arm wrestled?"

"Always a… first time," Callen grinned, leaning back and closing his eyes, contentedly soaking in the evening sunshine on his face. "Sam," he paused, not moving, and Sam looked at him.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks..." Sam reached over and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You're welcome, buddy," he replied. "You're welcome."


	11. Chapter 10

_Firstly, apologies for not getting a chapter uploaded yesterday, we have been busy without internet for the weekend. Thank you again for the reviews - 'Guest' I couldn't respond privately, but rest assured the story is complete (only a few more chapters to go now :-( ) and I will carry on uploading every day until it's done._

 _I'm not sure Callen is thrilled that Eric and Nell visit him in this chapter, but they couldn't do everything via the big screen at Ops!_

* * *

 **CHAPTER TEN**

Callen slept through most of the night, the combination of the fresh air and exercise having given his body some sense of normality at last. Sam had gone home not long after they had returned to Callen's room, waiting until the nurse had swapped the oxygen back over to be sure his partner was going to be okay for the night, and begging him to stay put by promising that they would all meet again at the hospital first thing in the morning. It had taken all of his resolution to walk away and not camp out in Callen's room again to keep an eye on him, but he knew Callen needed the solitude.

In the morning, Eric and Nell were the first to arrive, wanting to see for themselves how Callen was. They knocked and entered his room a little shyly, unsure of their welcome, but the last of the sedatives had cleared from Callen's system and he was, on the whole, feeling more upbeat and determined that today was the day he would negotiate his release.

"Sorry, we're not too early are we?" Nell enquired, seeing him sat on his bed, though fully dressed. The tube in his nose still came as a shock to her, even though she'd seen him on the screen the day before. He gave her one of his crooked half smiles, not quite reaching his eyes. He looked tired, she thought. His hair and stubble were a little longer than she was used to seeing, like he wore it sometimes on undercover assignments. Softer, and somehow avoiding the scruffy homeless look of Deeks. "We brought you some tea."

"Real tea. None of that hospital machine gunk they say is tea, but actually isn't… And a breakfast muffin," Eric said, rambling, holding up a bag.

"Thanks," Callen said gratefully, standing to accept the tea from Nell with his right hand, feeling the needle of the cannula used for his twice daily shots shift uncomfortably under his skin in the back of his hand and trying to pretend it was normal to have his two young tech colleagues seeing him as he was, in that room. He nodded to the cabinet to Eric, who put the bag down, fidgeting as if not sure whether to look at Callen or not. Callen extended his smile to Eric, not wanting the awkward tech to feel his gift of food had been shunned; the truth was Callen was still finding eating a chore, something he knew would have to change if he stood any chance of getting out of there any time soon.

"Morning G," Sam looked his partner up and down carefully as he entered the room, relieved to see him still there and looking as though he'd had a relatively trouble free night. Callen was less pale and looked less exhausted, though he still had a slightly haunted look in his eyes that Sam knew was a combination of worry about the boy, frustration and humiliation at being injured in front of his younger co-workers, and desperation to get the hell out of there. Probably in that order, knowing Callen. "Starting without us?"

"We just got here," Eric said, still uncomfortable, and then seeing Sam was joking, looking embarrassed.

"Kensi and Deeks are on their way up," Nell informed them all, having just picked up a message on her phone.

Sam hovered near Callen's shoulder. "You okay?" he asked, unobtrusively. Callen nodded, giving Sam a reassuring smile that was at least in part genuine.

"Better when I get out of here," Callen replied in a low voice, and Sam briefly touched his arm, providing rock like support as always. He was quietly relieved to see Callen seemed to be breathing better today, and his voice was starting to regain its usual strength and confidence.

"Morning guys," Kensi said cheerily as she and Deeks arrived.

"Let's get this party started!" Deeks joked, and Sam chortled.

"You need to get out more… if you think this is a party," Callen told him. Turning to Eric and Nell, he asked, "Have you found anything… on the boy?"

"No," Nell said, regretfully. "He's still a John Doe. He doesn't match the description of any Missing Persons listed in the LA area. We're widening the search parameters today in case he's come from further afield, but for the time being it seems no one is looking for him."

"He's just a… little kid!" Callen exclaimed, his momentary outburst causing his chest to wheeze again. Sam put his hand on Callen's shoulder.

"We'll get to the bottom of it," he said. "He's been assigned a Social Services caseworker for now. He'll be looked after." Callen didn't look convinced, but moved past it.

"Where are we up to, then?" he asked.

"I'd say we're pretty close to wrapping things up," Nell told him, and Callen raised his eyebrows.

"Don't look so surprised," Deeks said. "Some of us have been working hard while you two have been partying all hours up here." Callen and Sam rolled their eyes at each other.

"Shall you hit him… or shall I?" Callen responded, only half joking.

"We apprehended the hacker yesterday afternoon," Kensi explained.

"I *thought* Deeks was looking uncommonly smug this morning!" Sam exclaimed.

"Well do tell, children… do tell," Callen prompted impatiently. He felt slightly edgy knowing Kensi and Deeks had been taking the lead on something without his knowledge, but better for knowing Sam was clearly in the dark too. Damn he'd be glad when he could get back to Ops.

"His name came up in the searches we were running of the companies who had interests in your warehouse," Nell explained. "He is a Mr Peter Lacey, and he is John Bates' cousin. He worked with Henderson before Henderson joined the Marines. He is the IT engineer for the company that currently owns the warehouse!" she said triumphantly.

"He'd got in way over his head," Kensi continued.

"Yeah, he was practically crying like a baby when we interrogated him yesterday, and showed him the photos of his cousin, Bates, dead. He couldn't spill the beans fast enough!" Deeks said gleefully.

"A challenging interrogation for you then," Sam responded sarcastically.

"Yeah… well…" Deeks said, mock humbly.

"Will you finish, for heaven's sake?" Callen's patience was running thin.

"Lacey said it was all Henderson's idea. He'd got some beef with the military, for some reason, and in his role at Pendleton he discovered he could steal ammo relatively easily, thinking he could make some money on the black market. He knew of the warehouse from his previous employment in one of the companies that leased it. We guess he worked out that with the warehouse being used by Xingu and almost totally unmanned, he could stash his illegal goods there, and not only use the warehouse for storage, but for safe distribution as well – he could be strictly hands off once he'd got the goods in place. All he needed was the IT expertise to hack into the computer system to put his plan into place."

"How did he find buyers?" Sam mused.

"Okay, so maybe we haven't wrapped everything up yet," Deeks said a little defensively. "Lacey only knows about the IT side. He thinks Henderson has a partner who handled the sale side of things – but he doesn't have a name, or even a description. He only ever dealt with Henderson."

"Henderson clearly had some sort of hold over Bates as well as Lacey," Kensi continued. "Maybe to do with them being related. We need to keep digging."

"What did Henderson have over Lacey?" Callen asked.

"Blackmail," Nell said succinctly.

"Lacey made a mistake in his first company that should have ended up with him losing his job, and maybe even go to jail," Kensi expanded. "Apparently Henderson always suspected…. From the time they were working in that same company. Confidentially of data. Lacey made some slip-up in the code that enabled confidential data to be copied off the system. He covered it up, but not before Henderson found out about it, though he didn't know it was Lacey at fault at the time. He confirmed it when he ended up working with Bates in the Marines – Lacey had confided in his cousin, and Henderson got the information out of Bates. The two of them were no match for Henderson. Lacey is crying for protection until we track down Henderson and lock him up – he's literally fearing for his life after discovering Henderson shot Bates."

"I'll bet he is," Sam murmured.

"We don't know… for sure," Callen interjected. "That Henderson shot Bates, I mean."

"No, but it's pretty likely, isn't it," Sam said. "There must only have been the two of them in the warehouse, only Bates shooting at us?" Callen nodded. He'd only seen Henderson, holding the boy as hostage, in enough detail to recognise. Bates had been shooting at him from the shadows, only identifiable as the source of the gunfire. Even so, Callen had been pretty sure he was the only other person there.

"It makes sense," Nell said, always the voice of logic and reason. "It's almost certain Henderson already meant to harm, or even kill, Bates at the start of all this, with his special order for the powder to be delivered to Bates in the first place. When that didn't work, he took him out at the warehouse instead."

* * *

Sam finished his call to Hetty and decided to wait in the hall while Callen's doctor carried out his morning check-up. Eric and Nell had returned to Ops to continue running down leads on Henderson, and Hetty had ordered Kensi and Deeks to return to the boatshed to question Lacey again, so they had just left. They hoped that once the initial shock of Lacey's first interrogation was over, they'd be able to glean more information that might help them either track down Henderson, or locate the mystery fourth person involved, the partner who dealt with the sales. Hetty had left Sam taskless, but wordlessly inferring his place was with his partner. As Sam saw the nurse approaching with the trolley of supplies to change Callen's dressings, Sam wondered again about Hetty's infallible sixth sense. He stood to hold the door to Callen's room open, and saw the composure Callen had maintained all morning start to falter as he caught sight of the nurse, so Sam wordlessly stepped into the room too.

"You're doing okay," Sam heard the doctor say reassuringly as he stood up to go, acknowledging Sam on his way out. Callen nodded, but Sam could see his attention was already on what he'd have to endure from the nurse and Sam moved closer to his partner, giving him another brief supportive touch on the arm. The nurse asked Callen to sit on the bed while she removed the cannula from the back of his hand and his relief to be rid of the needle at last was clear. She also took off the dressing on his forearm, exposing the long thin track of the deep graze that marched like a centipede across the well-developed muscle of his gun arm, a superficial injury, though painful in the short term due to the large number of nerve endings just under the skin. Sam winced as he saw it for the first time, but knew it could have done a lot more damage if Henderson's aim had been even slightly better.

It wasn't long before the nurse turned her attention to Callen's more serious wounds, and Sam didn't miss Callen suppress a shudder as she spoke to him quietly, reassuring twitchy patients a daily occurrence. She gently helped Callen unbutton his shirt so she could clean and re-dress the bullet wounds in his left arm and ribs. Callen was silent throughout, allowing the nurse to do her job swiftly and leave him alone. He remained silent after she left, and Sam gave him a moment to return from wherever he had distanced himself to in order to withstand the invasion of his personal space that he hated so much. After a minute, Callen stood up restlessly and walked to the window.

"I'm getting out of here today, Sam."

Sam looked Callen up and down. "Your doctor cleared you?" The question caught Callen off guard.

"Well… not yet," he admitted. "But I'm not… staying."

"G…" Sam said warningly, and then when Callen turned to him with a cold glint in his eyes he backed down. "I'm sorry. I'm worried. It's my job to worry. You could have died, G! I need to have your back so you can have mine…."

"Well you can… have… my back," Callen retorted, his rising anger having a constricting effect on his lungs, which only served to make him angrier as he desperately fought the overwhelming urge to run. "You can have… mine by… getting me… out!"

Sam sighed, and crossed the room to stand next to Callen. "I will always have your back," he said, quietly. Callen hung his head, ashamed.

"I'm sorry Sam," he said in a low voice. He hadn't meant to lash out at his partner. Sam was just there, as he always was, having his back…

"I know," Sam said, touching Callen's shoulder. "I know." He paused. "What can I do?"

"Oh… I don't know Sam," Callen sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair, fully aware he had been behaving like a petulant child. It wasn't like he was a stranger to being hospitalised, nor was this the longest stay he'd ever endured. It was a risk they all took, every day, that they might not come home in one piece. A risk he admitted would have been worth it, if the boy survived. He didn't remember ever feeling so trapped though. His doctor's insistence on continuing the oxygen meant even getting out of his room was a challenge, and even though he had dealt with much longer confinements, both after his shooting and after the Spiral virus, in the early days he had been so out of it he hadn't felt the same way as he did now. Now, his head was ready to be someplace else, and it was only his lungs that were letting him down. Still on edge, he turned to start pacing the small room once again and felt Sam's hand tentatively on his arm, gently restraining him. He took a deep, shaky breath, and without fully meeting Sam's worried eyes, he pulled the oxygen tube off over his head, tossing it back towards the bed before turning back to gaze silently out of the window again.

"Okay," Sam said, watching closely as Callen breathed slowly and deliberately in and out, recognising that his partner truly had had as much as he could take. "Okay. Let's get you out of here."


	12. Chapter 11

_Thanks again guys. Next chapter... we're so near the end now! I'm a bit sad! :-( Callen's finally got his wish though, so he's happy :-)_

* * *

 **CHAPTER ELEVEN**

It was late morning by the time Sam negotiated Callen's release. His doctor would have preferred a further 24 hours of observation, but Sam knew they'd risk Callen doing a disappearing act on them and going off on his own if they attempted to keep him for even half that long, so he managed to persuade the medical team that it was far better Callen was allowed to leave under supervision, and eventually his doctor agreed. Even so, Callen was observed at ten minute intervals for an hour to check he was breathing okay without the continual oxygen before the doctor would even consider processing his paperwork to leave. He was ordered to rest, an instruction Sam privately thought amusing since they had surely already discovered Callen didn't exactly obey orders. Sam was given a bag of medication, two appointments for check-ups at 24 and 48 hours, and strict instructions that Callen should not be left alone until those 48 hours were up and he had been medically cleared. Finally, they were allowed to leave, though Callen came very close to losing his composure when the doctor insisted he vacated the hospital property in a wheelchair and not on his own two feet. "Just save your breath for arguing your case with Hetty," Sam had said quietly, and, tension diffused, smirking, Callen had sat and allowed himself to be pushed to the car park, waiting with moderate patience while Sam went to fetch the car.

Sam held the door wide while Callen moved from the wheelchair into the low seat of the Challenger, and seeing his awkward fumble for the seat belt with his freshly bandaged left arm, Sam gently reached round to fasten it. Callen grunted – part annoyance, part thanks, Sam diagnosed. He handed the wheelchair back to the waiting porter and climbed in himself, starting the engine and maneuvering out of the car park, half an eye on Callen the whole time.

Callen leaned his head back, eyes half shut, his right arm resting on the edge of the window with the ugly long scab of the bullet graze glinting in the sunlight. His relaxed posture was so reminiscent of the last time they'd been in the car together, driving after Henderson towards the warehouse district, that Sam had to keep reminding himself to focus. His sideways glances did not go unnoticed by his ever-aware partner.

"Keep your eyes… on the road."

"I know how to drive," Sam retorted with mock amusement, secretly relieved to see Callen back on form. "Just making sure you get home in one piece. Hetty will rip me a new one otherwise."

"Neither of us will… be in one piece, if you… aren't looking," Callen said, unmoving, though Sam could see him breathing hard.

"I can drive, G," he repeated good humouredly, pleased to have Callen beside him in the car again despite his underlying concerns about his partner's health.

"Yeah? Well you missed the… turning… back there. To Ops."

"I was taking you home," Sam muttered, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. Callen opened his eyes fully and looked square at Sam.

"Ops," he stated, firmly.

"Okay, okay," Sam rolled his eyes. "God knows what Hetty will say."

"Probably be pleased," Callen grumbled. "She can… keep an eye herself… if I'm there." Sam chuckled, back-tracking through the LA streets and pulling up in his usual spot outside the Mission. Without waiting to be asked, he unclicked Callen's seat belt, and waited while Callen eased himself out of the car, watching without comment as he rested his hands on the roof briefly to catch his breath before turning to walk to the door. Sam held the heavy door open for him to enter, and followed behind as his partner crossed to his desk in the bullpen.

Hetty caught Sam's eye as she watched her two agents arrive, noticing Callen make his way immediately to his seat. Her sharp eyes didn't miss him take some deep steadying breaths before he opened his laptop and made a pretence of being busy.

"A word, Mr Hanna?" she quietly motioned Sam to join her. "How is he?" she enquired in a low voice.

"He's okay, Hetty," Sam replied. "He's not 100%..."

"I can see that, Mr Hanna," Hetty interrupted. "Should he be here?"

"He might as well sit here as at home," Sam said carefully, not wanting to throw Callen under that particular bus. The doctor's terms of release definitely hadn't included coming back to work.

"I see," Hetty said, reading between the lines.

"We'll keep an eye on him, Hetty," Sam reassured his over-protective boss. "I've got his meds, and there's a tank of oxygen in my car, if he starts to struggle. He doesn't know. But he'll be fine."

* * *

"Callen!" Nell spotted him from the balcony and beamed as he winked up at her.

"Hey, Callen! You're back!" Eric added his greeting, the two of them rushing down the steps to join Sam standing in the bullpen, all eyes watching Callen as he leant back on his chair and grinned at them.

"Guess so," he agreed. "Want to… update me?"

"There's good news on the boy," Nell told him, and Callen sat up a bit straighter.

"You've found… his family?"

"No, not yet. Still no Missing Persons reports, even from a wider area. We're reaching out to all the local orphanages and social services… No, the good news is from the hospital. He's off the ventilator! He's still not woken up from the sedation, but the nurse said he is breathing absolutely fine by himself, they don't believe there will be any lasting damage to his lungs, and they have reduced the sedatives so he should wake up this evening."

"Hopefully then we can find out who he is," Sam said to Callen reassuringly.

"Kensi and Deeks are still questioning Lacey at the boatshed," Nell said. "I don't think he's going to be much more help though, to be honest. He's definitely not the brains of the operation, and he's been a mess ever since he saw those pictures of Bates dead. He's terrified Henderson wants to find him and kill him too."

"That may well have been Henderson's intention. Might be able to use Lacey to lure him out…" Sam mused. "If we can persuade him to cooperate of course."

"We're still running facial rec on Henderson," Eric told him. "No sign so far, he's either gone to ground somewhere, or he's very good at avoiding the cameras. He's bound to slip up eventually."

"We're also tracing back through his phone records," Nell continued. "His phone went dead shortly after the explosion at the warehouse, so we can't track him by that any more. Probably deliberate. There's several calls to what looks like a succession of burn phones over the past few weeks, and we're working on tracing where those were bought now – we'll find whoever it was Henderson was speaking to, eventually." Eric nodded in agreement.

"The bad guys, they always slip up somewhere, and then we'll get them," he added, positively.

"I don't doubt it," Callen nodded. "Got anything… I can… look at?"

"I'll put copies of everything we've found so far on your screen down here," Nell promised him.

"Lunch run first though, G," Sam told him. "I told Hetty we'd look in on Kensi and Deeks down at the boatshed." Callen nodded and flipped his laptop shut as he slowly rose to follow Sam. Sam paused when they were out of sight in the corridor. "You doing okay?"

"I'm fine Sam."

"Headache?" Sam persisted. "Nausea?"

"Only from your… driving," Callen teased him. Sam rolled his eyes and quietly handed Callen a bottle of water and his pills. Callen took them obediently and swallowed, handing Sam back the bottle of water as he rested back on the wall to steady himself.

"Happy?" he said sarcastically, mocking Sam's motherly care.

"One of these days," Sam muttered in reply, "I'm just gonna leave you to get your wounds infected. See how I care!"

"Ooh!" Callen laughed at him, though it turned into a cough. "Where's the love!"

"I'll love you all the way back to the hospital if you're not careful," Sam said darkly. "Come on."

* * *

Kensi and Deeks were waiting at the table in the boatshed when Sam walked in with Callen a pace or two behind.

"Hey!" Kensi greeted Callen warmly, pleased to see him out of the hospital, though only just managing to hide her concern at the way his chest was heaving as he fought for breath. "I thought we were meeting you guys back at the hospital later!"

"Change… of plan," Callen informed her succinctly, and gesturing to the image of Lacey in the interrogation room on the screen asked, "He say any more?"

"Nothing," Deeks said disgustedly. "He knows nothing."

"Or he's a good liar," Sam suggested, but Kensi and Deeks both shook their heads.

"Honestly, he hasn't got it in him," Kensi said. "The most he's come up with is that he thinks it's possible one of the phone calls Henderson made in his hearing was to a woman. That's it."

"Girlfriend?" Callen suggested, sitting down. He was tiring more than he wanted to admit.

"Lacey didn't seem to think Henderson had a girlfriend, but he's so shit scared of him I'm not sure we can rely on him having any useful information like that – he just kept his head down and did whatever Henderson ordered him to do."

"We've informed the Twins," Deeks said. "They'll cross check Henderson's phone logs for any female contacts. We might get somewhere."

"Or it might just be a girlfriend," Sam said. "Here, have some lunch." He passed round the sandwiches and cold drinks they had bought on the way, and Kensi and Deeks accepted gratefully. Callen picked at his, still struggling to have much of an appetite. Not wanting them all to watch him, he got up and moved to the corner where they made hot drinks, standing with his back to his team and hoping the wheezing in his chest wasn't too obvious. Waiting for the kettle to boil, he itched absent-mindedly at the almost healed cut on his head.

"Stop scratching that," Sam said, without looking up.

"What?" Callen feigned innocence.

"You know what."

"I thought we agreed… I don't need…" Callen began.

"If you scratch it, it'll scar," Sam said, still eating.

"Ladies… like scars," Callen smirked. Sam snorted.

"Why do I bother?"

They were interrupted by Nell popping up on the screen.

"Hey guys," she said, and immediately continued, "We might have something."

"Go ahead," Sam said, pointedly moving a chair for Callen to sit on in view of the screen. Callen obeyed the silent order, knowing his partner had him sussed. He tried to concentrate on keeping his breathing quiet and regular at the same time as listening to Nell.

"We've watched every minute of the CCTV from the back and front of the warehouse. Apart from deliveries being collected as items are picked to be dispatched, there are no signs of anyone coming or going until the day Henderson and Callen were in there… Remember we saw someone who could possibly have been Bates on CCTV from a nearby building?" Nell pressed on without waiting for an answer. "Well the Xingu CCTV shows him clearer, and it definitely is Bates. He arrived through the back not long before it all kicked off with Henderson. It's possible they arranged to meet there, but Henderson ended up trying to dodge Callen. When we switched to the front camera, you can see Henderson entering with the boy, and Callen in pursuit." Nell put the footage up on the boatshed screen for them to see, and they were all quiet as she let it run, showing nothing for a couple of minutes until Callen ran back past the crates with the boy, followed immediately by the explosion that had put them in hospital. Sam kept casting sideways glances at Callen, but he seemed unconcerned to watch the incident over, and was the first to speak again.

"Does it show Henderson… leaving?"

"No, that's the funny thing. The loading bay camera is covered in dust from the explosion of the powder, and there's no more useful footage after that point. We have run the tape covering the back door twice, and there's nothing. Eric is looking at it again now, because he thinks it's been edited to delete the section showing Henderson leaving."

"Why would he take the time to delete it?" Deeks asked, not really expecting an answer.

"We're not sure… it's odd. It's possible he's deleted it not to hide him leaving, but to cover up someone else arriving… You remember the burn phones? Henderson made a call to one right after the explosion, lasting almost four minutes – definitely long enough for him to be having a conversation with someone. Now we might have something here too. It's a stretch, but worth following up. So all the burn phones were bought, with cash, from stores within a ten block radius of Lt Col Briggs house."

"You think Briggs was involved after all?" Sam interrupted Nell, voicing the thoughts of all of them.

"Well, he and Bates live on the same road, so all those burn phones were also within a ten block radius of Bates' house… but that's not what we have. We did a routine check of the bank accounts of Lt Col Briggs, Bates, and also Mrs Briggs – and get this, Mrs Briggs also bought a phone from one of those same stores, using her card."

"You're right, that is a stretch," Sam said, looking at Callen, but his partner remained silent.

"It gets better," Nell told him. "We looked up the phone records of the calls made on the phone bought by Mrs Briggs, and it shows regular phone calls to John Bates!" The four agents were silent for a moment, processing the information.

"Now it's possible," Nell continued, "That one or more of those other burn phones, bought with cash, also belonged to Mrs Briggs, and maybe that's who Henderson called immediately after the explosion. She's clearly connected to Bates somehow. But Henderson wouldn't have called Bates because he was already there, maybe even had already been shot by Henderson. So we think maybe it's possible that Henderson was calling Mrs Briggs, as his partner in all of this, to update her?"

"Good work guys," Sam praised Nell and Eric. "Where is Mrs Briggs now? Kensi and Deeks can go and pick her up for questioning."


	13. Chapter 12

_Well here we are, the penultimate chapter. Most details pretty much wrapped up... I realise it might seem a bit 'too neat' for some readers, but I didn't want to get into a complex plot for my first story (or probably any story - I don't have that much of an imagination..!)_

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWELVE**

Callen watched peacefully with Sam as, on the big screen in the boatshed, Deeks paced the interrogation room, tying their suspect in knots with his questions fired from all angles amongst a torrent of chatter.

"Wouldn't you… give up everything… just to shut him up?" Callen joked to Sam.

"Even Kensi looks like she's ready to hit him," Sam chuckled. But under their jokes, they were quietly impressed with their younger co-workers. Finding and apprehending Mrs Briggs had proved straight-forward, as she was collecting her son from school, but it seemed the wholesome American soccer-mom persona was a cover to a darker personality, only evident after lots of careful interrogation. After over four hours of gradually intensifying questioning, backed up by Eric coming up trumps on the CCTV footage and finding the deleted loop that showed Mrs Briggs arriving at the back door of the warehouse half an hour after Henderson had placed the call to the burn phone, the woman had broken, and admitted her involvement in Henderson's illegal activities as the point of contact for potential buyers of the stolen goods through contacts known to her via her husband's role in the military.

"Can you believe it… though?" Callen asked. "She… doesn't seem… the type."

"They don't always," Sam observed, and Callen had to nod with agreement. It was the criminals that didn't appear like criminals, the ones that walked the streets with innocent people every day, that made their job what it was. Necessary.

Eventually, Kensi and Deeks emerged from the interrogation room, looking exhausted. The missing section from the CCTV showed Henderson appearing to threaten Mrs Briggs outside the warehouse door, yelling at her and pinning her to the wall with his arm across her throat, and they'd played it again in front of their suspect, demanding to know what the altercation had been about. It had been the remembered horror of that incident which had caused Mrs Briggs to break, and she cried with fear as she confessed to Henderson wanting to use her to find Lacey so that he could be taken out the same as Bates, threatening her family if she did not cooperate. Further probing had revealed the hold Henderson had over Bates was the same as that over Mrs Briggs, and again it had been the photos of John Bates shot in the warehouse that had opened the final flood gates. Mrs Briggs admitted that she and Bates had been 'romantically involved' after Bates' wife had died three years ago. They had met at the school both their sons attended and the affair had been on-going ever since. She had clung to Deeks and sobbed, begging that she and her son and husband would be protected. Deeks had looked frankly scared as he tried to extricate himself from her emotional clutches.

"I need a drink!" Deeks sighed, sinking wearily down onto the sofa. "That woman! Would. Not. Stop. Talking!" They all looked at him, and laughed.

"Well done, guys," Callen said sincerely.

"She doesn't know where we can find Henderson though." Kensi was despondent, wanting the whole case to be neatly wrapped up. "We need to find him, he's obviously trying to tidy up all his loose ends. Lacey and the Briggs family are all at risk while he's still out there. He's got no need for any of them now, and they can all identify him."

"Eric and Nell are bound to get a hit on him eventually," Sam reassured her. "And LAPD have a BOLO on him. He'll turn up."

"Probably… where we're least… expecting," Callen agreed, looking at his watch. "Let's… get back to Ops… update Hetty."

They travelled the short distance back to Ops in their two separate cars. Sam couldn't help noticing Callen seemed quieter than usual, even considering he was probably pretty exhausted by now.

"What now?" Callen was once again aware of his partner's sidelong glances.

"You okay? You seem… distracted."

"Why the boy, Sam? What made Henderson… grab him?" Callen paused, breathing hard. "And why… is no one… missing him?"

"Easy target, I guess. There weren't many people walking down that road to the shops. The boy was probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I guess," Callen sighed. "Will we ever… find out who he is?"

Sam left the question hanging; the truth was he didn't know. It had been four days, and there were still no Missing Persons reports that fitted the boy's description, but that didn't mean someone wouldn't miss him eventually, and the time elapsed could be for any number of innocent reasons. They finished the journey in companionable silence.

"Do you want me to update Hetty?" Sam offered as they got back to the Mission, noticing but refraining from commenting how Callen's chest was still quietly wheezing. Callen shook his head.

"Thanks. I'll do it though. Sort out… with Deeks… about Mrs Briggs… being charged," he instructed, splitting off towards Hetty's office.

* * *

"Where's Callen?" Sam demanded of his two younger co-workers, who were in the middle of a minor domestic regarding their roles in their earlier interrogation. Neither of them answered. "Kensi!" Sam exclaimed, exasperated. She looked up. "I said," Sam continued, with exaggerated patience, "Where is G?"

"We thought he was with you!" Deeks replied.

"Does he look like he's with me?" Sam retorted. "He told me he'd go check in with Hetty, but he's not there, and he's not here either."

"Maybe he's gone to the bathroom?" Kensi said, looking across at Hetty's desk, where Hetty was on the telephone, but Callen was nowhere to be seen.

"I'll go check," Deeks volunteered, as Sam strode the few paces across the hall to take him to Hetty. She motioned him still and silent with a finger, but seeing the serious look on his face quickly ended her call and gave him her full attention.

"What is the problem, Mr Hanna?"

"Have you seen Callen?" Sam asked, aiming for nonchalance, but not quite managing it.

"Not since you brought him back from the hospital earlier today," Hetty answered. "Should I have done?"

"He…" Sam paused, his brain whirring rapidly as he glanced at Deeks who had returned from the restroom and was silently shaking his head. "I'm gonna kill him!" Deeks and Kensi were at his side, looking puzzled and concerned.

"Mr Hanna?"

"I think he's given us the slip, Hetty!"

"But why?" Deeks asked. "Where could he possibly want to slip off to?"

"And how did any of us not notice him?" Kensi asked. "He's not exactly fully fit!"

"Two very good questions," Hetty said drily. "Two very good questions indeed."

"I'll get Eric to look for him," Sam said grimly, already turning and making his way up the stairs. He quickly filled Eric and Nell in on Callen's disappearance, and they hurriedly started tapping on their screens.

"His phone's off," Nell informed Sam worriedly.

"Can't you turn it back on?" Sam asked with impatience. Nell shook her head.

"He must have removed the battery," she told him. Sam muttered under his breath.

"Call me the SECOND you find ANYTHING," he instructed. "I'm going downstairs to tell Hetty he's disappeared. Check all the immediate surveillance cameras – oh and see if he's taken one of the pool cars." Sam stomped away, feeling furious and desperately worried at the same time. Callen's antibiotic meds were due… the doctor had been insistent Callen was not left alone until he'd had his final check-up… and his partner had already seemed tired and breathless after a long day. Sam paced the hallway, debating whether he should go out in his car and drive around looking for Callen collapsed in a heap somewhere… Just as he decided what the hell, he'd be better off driving around senselessly than doing nothing here, he heard Eric yell.

"SAM!" Sam was sprinting upwards even before Kensi and Deeks had left their seats.

"Please tell me you've found him, Eric," Sam said desperately.

"Sort of," Nell said. "He's taken a car from the pool. He disabled the tracker on it, but we got one hit on the numberplate, travelling across town here," Nell showed Sam the footage of Callen driving the pool car, fast, across an intersection.

"What is he doing?" Kensi joined Sam in peering at the grainy footage. "He looks okay though?"

"He just turned his phone back on, and immediately turned it off again by the looks of things," Eric interrupted. "And you'll never guess where?" Seeing the angry look on Sam's face he hurried on. "He turned his phone on outside the hospital! He's left the battery in now, it's still there. Inside the hospital now, look." Eric showed Sam the trace of Callen's cell on his screen.

"Why would he go back?" Deeks asked dubiously. "He couldn't wait to get out!"

"Perhaps he wasn't feeling well?" Kensi suggested, not really believing it.

"The boy!" Nell exclaimed. "He knew the boy was expected to wake up this evening!"

"He's gone to see him. He turned his phone on to let us know where he was," Sam said. "His way of letting us know he's okay."

"One of us could have driven him there if he'd only asked!" Kensi said with frustration.

"This is G we're talking about," Sam reminded her. "He doesn't ask. Has to do everything on his own." There was the slightest hint of affection hidden under the exasperation in Sam's voice. "Come on. Tell Hetty we'll go and make sure he's okay. There's no way he should be out on his own yet, let alone driving."

* * *

Callen leant on the rails in the lift, panting quietly. His chest was tight after his walk from the car park, and it was only his determination that the boy should not wake up alone that kept him from stopping for a rest on the way.

All too soon the lift doors opened to his floor, and he pushed himself upright, forced a calm neutral expression, stepping into the persona of the white doctor's coat and identity badge he wore, that he had procured on his way to the lifts. The room the boy was in was further down the corridor than he had been, and he glanced into the empty room he had vacated earlier that day on his way past. Once he'd seen the boy, maybe he could re-admit himself back into his room for a rest, he thought wryly. Wouldn't that amuse them all, G Callen willingly returning to a hospital. He gave his head the smallest of shakes, trying to push away his lingering headache. One foot in front of the other. Almost there. His chest was burning, and he made himself give a reassuring nod and smile to a hospital orderly passing him. The orderly smiled back, unsuspecting, and Callen would have heaved a sigh of relief if he had the lung capacity to do so.

Nearing the room, he took a sharp intake of breath. The boy was already awake, and he wasn't alone. At first he wondered if some family had come forth after all. Looking closer, the boy looked scared, and the posture of the person nearing the bed looked more threatening than family. Callen felt like he'd been punched in the guts. The man was Henderson, he was sure of it. What the hell was he doing here, with the boy!

Callen glanced desperately around him. The floor was empty. He got his phone out of a back pocket and turned it back on, firing a quick text to Sam, "Boy's room NOW!" He had the advantage of surprise, but not much else. Keeping his face turned away from Henderson, he turned the handle, and entered the room. He headed with authority straight for the clipboard at the end of the bed, his quick scan of the room having noted the boy's eyes wide open and watching him in fearful silence. The man – and it was definitely Henderson – wore a white coat similar to Callen's, and he had a stethoscope around his neck. But he was no kind, caring doctor. He had a syringe in his hand, Callen saw, and he was about to inject the boy's IV bag. Callen gave the boy what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"You're looking… better… young man," he said, in as doctorly voice as he could muster, but the tightness in his throat and chest gave him away, and Henderson turned. Callen leapt forward, getting behind Henderson and wrapping his right arm securely round Henderson's neck, trying desperately to hang on long enough to put him out of action. Henderson was taller, and fit, and though Callen's strength and skills would normally have made it a fairer fight, his constricted lungs gave Henderson an easy advantage. Callen clung like a limpet as Henderson flung him round, and when that didn't work, slammed backwards into the wall with Callen taking the full brunt of the impact. Callen grunted, and his grasp round Henderson's neck loosened. As they scuffled, one of them kicked the IV pole which toppled over them, and Callen grabbed it with both hands, trying from his position still behind Henderson to use the long metal pole to strangle him. It almost worked, until Henderson kicked sharply at Callen's shin at the same time as elbowing him in the stomach, with a force that toppled them both over backwards. Callen landed under Henderson, still desperately grasping the pole across Henderson's throat, but he was at a distinct disadvantage with the weight of Henderson crushing down on his chest. Henderson sensed it, and managed to wrench one end of the pole from Callen's hand, rolling off him and onto all fours, fumbling for his lost syringe before getting swiftly to his feet while Callen still lay prone and badly winded on the floor. Henderson reached below the white coat to an underarm holster and Callen could only watch with gasping breaths as Henderson drew his gun.


	14. Chapter 13

_Well here we are, the end of my first story. I'm a bit sad! I feel like I have lived and breathed this story for the past few weeks, and I am so so grateful to everyone who has supported me, to everyone who has read it and for all your kind reviews. A special thanks to those of you who have also taken the time to pm me separately for extra tips/support/confidence boosting - you know who you are :-) and I really appreciate it._

 _I've had a couple of thoughts for other stories, and two are started, but they're both giving me headaches at the moment...! Hopefully I will beat them into submission, but in the meantime it will be nice to get back to reading other people's stories without distraction._

 _So here is the last chapter - it's short, but I'm kind and I've posted the Epilogue today too. To those who have faithfully read and reviewed each chapter - I hope these meet with your approval. And to those who might be reading the whole story for the first time - I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it :-)_

* * *

 **CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

Before Callen even had time to register that this might be his last moment on earth (well hadn't he always told Sam a bullet would end his life one day?) the door to the room burst open, and there was Sam, determined once again that 'one day' was not going to be 'this day'. Henderson swung round to assess the new threat, and in that split second, Callen got one foot behind Henderson's right leg, and the other in front of it, and in a strong twisting motion he flipped Henderson down, and Sam instantly had his knee in Henderson's back, reaching for his cuffs and restraining the violent, cursing man.

"I'll kill you!" Henderson screamed at Callen, who hadn't the energy to be concerned. Sam hauled Henderson roughly up, and pushed him towards Kensi and Deeks to take into custody.

"Not today, you won't," he said with satisfaction, turning quickly back towards Callen who was still trying to catch his breath on the floor. "Shit man, are you okay?" he asked with alarm.

"A little… help…" Callen gasped, reaching his right arm up towards his concerned partner. Sam bent down and with considerable effort he helped Callen to his knees, and that was as far as Callen got as his chest heaved and he gagged and almost passed out.

"Easy there, easy," Sam said quietly, his hands steadying Callen's trembling shoulders. "I got you. Just breathe…" and Callen panted and did his best, still trying to clamber to his feet, towards the bed where the young boy lay quietly sobbing in fright. Seeing his intention, Sam resignedly put a strong hand under Callen's arm, and helped the struggling smaller man make the final part of his journey to his feet. Callen stumbled to the bed and leant heavily on the rail, grasping for the boy's hand with his, unable to speak. The boy looked at him, fearful at first, but recognising the man who had tried to save him in the dark warehouse, and as Callen did his best to smile reassuringly in between harsh gasps for air, the boy's sobs slowly stopped and he tentatively smiled back.

Sam stood with his hands still supporting Callen's shoulders, shaking his head in disbelief at the turn of events. "Hey buddy," he said gently to the boy, trying to make his colossal size as unintimidating as possible. "My name's Sam. I'm going to go and find a doctor for my friend Callen here. Think you can keep an eye on him for a few minutes while I'm gone?" Callen rolled his eyes, but the boy smiled shyly at Sam and nodded.

* * *

"Hetty!" Callen coughed from the bed, his voice muffled by the oxygen mask. "Where's… Sam?"

Sam had returned in a matter of minutes to where he had left Callen in the boy's room, a doctor and nurse in tow, urgency radiating from all of them. Callen was still leaning on the boy's bed, still gasping so hard for breath Sam was amazed he had managed to stay upright. He tried to protest when the three of them attempted to move him from the boy's side, and Sam had to promise repeatedly he would stay with the child while Callen got himself checked out. Immediately, his tone implied, and reluctantly, unable even to assure the frightened child that he would return soon, Callen had given the boy's hand a final squeeze, an unspoken promise, and allowed himself to be lowered into a wheelchair, taken back to the room he had vacated earlier that day, and laid on the bed while the doctor placed the oxygen mask over his face and the nurse attached monitors to his chest. Disorientated, he felt the prick of a needle in his arm before they both stood observing him closely. Callen closed his eyes and wished he were almost anywhere else.

It was whilst he was being monitored that Hetty arrived, and Callen could tell she didn't approve of what she saw as he tried in vain to sit up properly. The doctor's hands pushed him firmly back against the pillows even as he coughed and tried again to speak.

"Agent Callen!" the medic admonished. "Will you please allow us to treat you! I really do not want to have to intubate again at this stage."

That dire thought was enough. Callen inwardly shuddered and he lay still, shutting his eyes while he concentrated on taking regular gasping breaths of oxygen. The torment in his chest drew harsh lines on his face, but it was a different kind of pain that bothered him most acutely. He felt Hetty's small hand on his, and he opened his eyes and looked at her. She saw the emotional hurt and desperation in his eyes, and spoke calmly but quickly to reassure him.

"The child is quite alright, Mr Callen. Sam is still with him, he is not alone." Callen relaxed a little and Hetty continued. "His name is Marcus Bates." She saw Callen's eyes widen. "That's right. He is John Bates' son. Henderson killed his father."

"He tried…" Callen coughed again. "Tried to…" Both he and Hetty ended up on the receiving end of the doctor's warning stare.

"Shh, Mr Callen," Hetty said, squeezing his hand. Callen's ragged breathing punctuated the quiet. After a few minutes, Hetty spoke again. "Henderson tried to kill Marcus when he heard the child was starting to wake up. He knew he could identify him as the man who killed his father."

"Who killed…?" Callen broke off.

"Bates was shot before you even got to Marcus. Marcus said his father handed Henderson the gun and gave himself up, once he saw who the hostage Henderson ran into the warehouse with was."

"His son," Callen croaked miserably.

"Yes. His son. A very brave young boy. He told Sam everything that happened that day. Between his witness statement attesting to Henderson's murder of his father in front of him, and Henderson's attack on yourself just now, we have enough to put him away for life," Hetty said with grim satisfaction, and Callen nodded, his thoughts elsewhere. They sat together in silence for some time.

"Marcus will go into foster care," Hetty said gently, after a while. "You know that, don't you?" Callen nodded, sad but resigned. He hadn't been much younger than Marcus when he himself had entered the foster care system, and his heart broke for the boy and the difficult years he would now have ahead. Hetty watched him intently. "I am quite sure," she said carefully, "that he will be looked after?" Callen nodded again.

"I want to go… sit with him," he stated, leaving no room for discussion. He looked commandingly at his doctor, and the medic sighed.

"At least you'll be in the right place if anything happens," the doctor said resignedly. "I will have the nurse perform hourly obs on you there, until we are sure there has been no further damage from your, err, altercation." Callen nodded, discarding the oxygen mask, and slowly swinging his legs round to get up off the bed.

"Thank you," Hetty said on his behalf, and she walked slightly ahead of him at his slower than normal pace back to the boy's room. Knocking quietly, she opened the door to see Marcus asleep, with Sam still standing protectively by his bed. "Mr Hanna?" she gently got his attention. "Keep an eye on your partner, please."

Sam looked over Hetty's shoulder to see Callen leaning against the doorframe, panting, but determined, and he raised his eyebrows. "Everything okay?" he asked in a low voice.

"I promised… I would… come back," Callen said simply.


	15. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

Beep.

Callen woke to the reassuring beep echoing repeatedly in the darkness.

Beep.

He yawned, and stretched, and for a brief moment wondered where he was. The aching and tightness in his chest reminded him, and he shifted uncomfortably on the chair. He must have fallen asleep.

Beep.

He looked over the small boy on whose bed he had folded his arms and rested his head forward. The boy was peacefully asleep, the steady green line of the heart rate monitor showing all was well.

Beep.

Marcus had a foster home ready and waiting, but the hospital wanted to keep him a further 24 hours for observation first. He had suffered less ill effects from the fumes than Callen, largely due to Sam's quick reactions in carrying him out.

Beep.

Callen twisted in his seat to see his loyal friend and partner asleep on the chair. Judging by the way Sam was positioned, he was going to have a hell of a crick in the neck when he woke up.

Beep.

Callen rose stiffly, silently creeping to the window. That same stifling view of the parking lot that had so troubled him the past few days was just visible in the breaking light, except this time no one was forcing him to be here.

Beep.

Sam stirred, and Callen briefly touched his shoulder, a gesture of gratitude as well as a warning to be quiet as the boy slept.

Beep.

"You good?" Sam whispered.

"Yeah," Callen replied, trying to stifle a cough. "Yeah… I'm good."

* * *

 _ **Friendship is like air, you can't see it but can feel it every moment…**_


End file.
